


Second Chances

by VBabe16



Category: The Walking Dead, The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU/No Zombie Apocalypse, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Broken Bones, Car Accidents, M/M, More tags to be added, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-17 22:52:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9349796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VBabe16/pseuds/VBabe16
Summary: This is an Alternate Universe to The Mechanic and the Sheriff. It picks up after Ch. 3 of TMatS, but takes off a completely different direction. Rick and Daryl DO NOT get together in this universe.





	1. Ch. 1

 

 

When Daryl got home after work, he took a quick shower and went to his kitchen to start dinner. He'd enjoyed lunch with Rick, and then sleeping in bed with Rick. He worried telling Rick about his past would cause a change in Rick's feelings for him. Rick's arms around him had been wonderful. Daryl couldn't remember ever feeling safe in another man's arms, not since Paul. As he cut up vegetables for his beef stir fry and rice dinner, he felt the ring against his sternum, warm and light. It brought him peace and a sense of calm. His phone vibrated and dinged on the counter nearby and he grabbed a washcloth to dry his hands. With a swipe of his thumb, the message opened.

 

_Sheriff Handsome: How was work after lunch?_

 

Daryl smiled and picked it up to reply to the message.

 

_Me: Good. Managed ta close on time. You?_

 

_Sheriff Handsome: Good. Quiet._

 

_Me: Don't jynx yerself, Grimes._

 

Daryl waited and when a reply didn't come, he grabbed the cutting board and used his knife to push the bell peppers, carrots and celery into the hot iron skillet. He half hoped that Rick took him for a possible first date, but he knew it was probably going to be a while before he asked. He frowned when he couldn't help but think... 'maybe he would be better with Michonne.' Using a spatula, he stirred the vegetables for a moment before playing a lid over the skillet and getting a pot of water on a second fire. Just as he was starting to fry the meat, a knock came to his door. He swore softly and washed his hands, taking a rag with him to dry them. As he opened the door, he heard a ding come from his phone. He looked over his shoulder at it briefly, then back at the open door.

 

“Yeah? Can I-” He froze, lips no longer moving.

 

“... Hello, Daryl.”

 

“... Paul.”

 

Paul, his hair shorter and barely reaching the bottom of his ears, only a hint of a beard, stood on the other side of the door, leather jacket on and jeans hugging his frame. He stood there, silent and looking a bit nervous. Daryl stared at him, heart racing and a lump in his throat. After a moment's silence, Paul cleared his throat. “Can I... come in?”

 

Daryl was silent a moment longer before seeming to shake himself out of his shock. “Uh... yeah...” He stepped aside, opening the door wider. Paul stepped in, brushing past him gently. Daryl shivered, getting a whiff of the other man's cologne. He shut the door quietly and locked it. “... When did ya get back?”

 

Paul turned to him. “You know I moved to France?”

 

“Tara told me a couple years ago after blaming me fer being the on ta force yer hand.” The mechanic replied softly, hands going to the back pockets of his skinny jeans.

 

Paul nodded a bit. “Ah... sorry about her. When I told her I was moving, I told her it wasn't because of us breaking up. She didn't believe me, even after I showed her my invitation to an art school up there.”

 

“So it was fer art school?” Daryl's eyebrows rose. “Did ya graduate?”

 

Paul nodded. “Yeah. I... opened a shop a few weeks ago down Main Street.”

 

“... Congratulations.” They stood in nervous silence for a while longer until a loud pop from the stove made them both jump. “Uh... h-have a seat, make yerself comfortable. Want anythang ta drink?”

 

“Um... water, please.” Paul replied softly, taking his jacket off and sitting at the island's bar top. “... You renovated?” He asked.

 

“Yeah, last year.” Daryl rasped, grabbing a bottle of water form the fridge and handing it over. He grabbed a pair of tongs and lifted the lid to the meat and began turning the beef strips. “Mah... ex-boyfriend...” He noticed Paul's wince at the words. “He... kept... sayin this place was shit 'n tried pushin me ta spend all the money I'd saved up on somethin. So... I did. Spent nearly fifteen thousand dollars on renovations, not jus up 'ere, but in the shop as well.”

 

“Uh... wow. I wondered why the shop seemed... brighter.” Paul opened the water and took a sip from it, glad Daryl wasn't talking about him. They'd actually had plans to buy a house and renovate this place and putting the studio up for rent before he... left. “... How are you doing, Daryl?”

 

Daryl placed the lid back on the skillet and turned, leaning against the counter. “... Good.” He paused. “... I... stopped smokin... only drink when 'm wit friends, 'm workin out, eatin healthy... seein a therapist.”

 

It was Paul's turn to be shocked. His eyebrows shot up and his mouth dropped. “You're... seeing a therapist?”

 

“Yeah... fer three years now.” The mechanic whispered, pulling at a loose string in the towel on the counter.

 

“Daryl... that's amazing! Is it helping?”

 

“... Immensely. 'm... not so angry anymore, 've learned ta forgive mahself and others.” He glanced at his phone, seeing the light in the corner blinking, but he ignored it and returned his gaze to Paul's smiling face.

 

“You look so much better, Daryl! There's a healthy tint to your skin, your eyes are brighter and you just...” 'Look so handsome...' Paul kept the words to himself. “You look better, Daryl.”

 

“I feel better.” The mechanic whispered.

 

“Are you sleeping better?” Paul smiled more when the other man nodded. “Still hunting?”

 

“'ccasionally.” He wasn't going to tell Paul he spent two weeks up in the woods drinking his life away. “Only when 'm feelin stressed 'r... caged... y'know?” Paul nodded his understanding, playing with the cap to his water bottle. “... How was France?”

 

Paul smiled brightly. “It was amazing, Daryl. The people were friendly, polite and so very supportive. I made a few friends, sold some art pieces.” He wasn't going to tell Daryl that half the paintings he'd done were of him. Those were hidden away in his new apartment, covered with preservative plastic. “I... had a boyfriend for a few months. He hated my long hair, so I cut it, and then he hated my beard, so I shaved it off.”

 

“Was wondering why ya don't look like a hippie no more.”

 

Paul chuckled, running his fingers through his hair, pulling it all to one side. “Yeah, can't exactly call me Jesus anymore, can you?”

 

“Never did.” Daryl smiled a bit.

 

Paul's cheeks turned pink and he looked down. “No... you never did. I think the first thing you called me other than “hippie” or “prick” was my name.”

 

“You was so shocked 'n yer face turned red.”

 

“Everyone turned to stare at us. I think right then and there I knew I wanted to be more than friends with you.” Paul chuckled. Daryl went silent, looking back down at the towel. “... I'm sorry.”

 

“Nah... s'fine.” The mechanic whispered, turning to the stove to stir the vegetables. Paul watched as he added the rice and put the lid on the boiling water and turn the fire under it off. He turned the meat again, before turning back to Paul. “So... yer boyfriend...”

 

“Ex-boyfriend.” Paul whispered.

 

“... What happened?”

 

“... He was an asshole. Anytime I'd be in my art zone he would come and start bugging me. We'd get into a fight and he'd leave for several days and then come back and beg for forgiveness, saying he'd do better and we'd be happy. Don't know how many times I fell for it.”

 

“Ah... a liar.” Daryl muttered. “Been there...”

 

Paul smiled. “Your ex was a liar, too?”

 

“Yeah. After I spent the money ta renovate this place, he started tellin me ta sell the shop, move in wit 'im, be a house wife. We'd fight 'n break up, then he'd come crawling back, sayin he was an ass 'n he's sorry... ”

 

Paul snorted. “Daryl Dixon, a house wife? Maybe in another world.”

 

“Never in another world.” Daryl grinned handsomely, strands of hair falling against his cheek.

 

Paul stared at him for a moment. “No... you'd go stir crazy and probably pick up crazy projects and fill the house with dead animals.” Daryl chuckled, munching on some of the vegetables. A comfortable silence fell upon them, Daryl silently offering him some of the vegetables, to which Paul accepted and moaned in delight at the taste. “Daryl Dixon, I may just fall for you again.”

 

Daryl chuckled. “S'my whole plan.”

 

“I knew it.” Paul laughed softly. He was amazed. Several years ago, Daryl never would've joked with him like this. He would've maybe smiled, let out a soft chuckle or just kiss him. “I think we've just about ate all your vegetables, Daryl.”

 

“S'fine, the rice is done, we can jus eat meat 'n rice, right?”

 

Paul blinked. “Oh... sure.”

 

“Ya... do ya... wanna stay fer dinner?”

 

Paul smiled at the hesitance. “I'd love to.” He watched as Daryl shut the fires off and grab two bowls. He scooped some rice into one, then meat into it and set it in front of him. “... Thank you.”

 

Daryl smiled and did the same with his own and soon sat next to him. They ate in comfortable silence, far more comfortable than his lunch with Rick had been earlier that day. After they ate, Paul helped him with dishes. Daryl had protested, but Paul insisted, saying he'd crashed his dinner. While Daryl finished putting the dishes up, a knock came to the door.

 

“Can ya get that?”

 

“Oh, sure...” Paul smiled and went to the door, unlocking it and then opening it. “Hello? Can I help you?”

 

Rick stared at him in somewhat shock and confusion. “Is Daryl here?”

 

“Yes, of course.” He stepped aside and Daryl walked over as Rick entered.

 

“Rick? What're you doin 'ere?”

 

Rick cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was on my way home from work, wanted to check on you an invite you over for dinner. I've been texting, but you never answered.”

 

Daryl blinked and glanced at Paul. “Sorry, man... I... I got sidetracked.”

 

“That's probably my fault.” Paul smiled. “I showed up unexpectedly and crashed his dinner party.”

 

Rick looked at him, then held his hand out. “Rick Grimes.”

 

Paul took it and shook his hand. “Paul Rovia.”

 

Rick's eyes widened and he looked at Daryl. “... Daryl-”

 

“Yeah, that Paul.” Daryl whispered.

 

Paul looked between them nervously. “Uh... a-are you... Daryl's-”

 

“No! No...” Rick shifted on his feet. “We're not dating. He's... helped me a couple times with my kids.”

 

Paul smiled, the tightness in his chest fading a bit. He could tell they'd grown close, he just didn't know how close. “Well... I... I was just leaving, if you'd like to talk to him.”

 

“You don't have to leave.” Rick said. “I was... I was just going to ask if he wanted to come over for dinner, but... I guess you guys already ate.”

 

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, was cookin while ya was textin me.”

 

An awkward silence fell upon the three. Rick cleared his throat after a moment and turned for the door. “Well, I'm glad you're alright. I'll... I'll text you later.” Daryl nodded and shut the door behind him.

 

“What was that about?” Paul asked softly, hands in his pockets.

 

Daryl turned to him after locking the door. He didn't want to lie to Paul. “... We've... been kinda flirtin and seein each other. We're not datin, but...”

 

“... Do you want to date him?” Paul whispered.

 

“... I don't know. Last night... we... I stayed the night at his place. Told 'im bout mah dad, Merle... he comforted me 'n guess I jus fell asleep. It was rainin and he asked me to stay over.”

 

“Did you have sex?”

 

“Nah. We just slept.”

 

Paul nodded, looking down. He had no right asking Daryl about his relationship with Rick, not after what happened between them; but, he couldn't help being jealous. He hadn't come here with the intention of asking Daryl to take him back. He just wanted to see him and ask how he was doing. After spending the last few hours with the man, seeing how he's changed... Paul desperately wanted to get to know him again. While he was in France, he'd missed Daryl terribly. He'd dreamed about him, painted him almost obsessively. When he'd had sex with Jean the first and only time, he'd felt sick to his stomach, like he'd cheated on Daryl even though they'd broken up.

 

“Can we be friends?” Daryl asked suddenly and Paul looked up at him.

 

The artist's lips parted in hope. “... Yes. I'd like that.” He smiled warmly and his heart soared when Daryl smiled back.

 

 

The next day, Daryl and Rick went out to lunch again, meeting at Alexandria Cafe. Sasha greeted them warmly and brought them their usual drinks and menus. As Daryl sat across from him, Rick studied the mechanic. Daryl seemed in a very good mood and his phone was on the table instead of in his pocket like usual. Of course, Rick couldn't get onto him for it, because his own phone was on the table as well. When his phone dinged, he picked it up and looked down at it, smiling in amusement.

 

“Somethin funny?” Daryl asked, a hint of teasing in his tone.

 

Rick looked up at him. “Yeah... Michonne just sent me a picture of her dog curled up in a blanket. She says he's refusing to get out of bed because of how cold it is.”

 

Daryl faltered at the mention of Michonne's name. “Oh... yeah, Rufus can be a brat.” 'They must've exchanged numbers at the shop yesterday.'

 

“Yeah, ran into her at the station this morning. She was visiting her friend, Tara. Tara was out on patrol, though, so we ended up talking.” Rick smiled, typing out a quick response before setting his phone down. “... What about you and Paul?”

 

Daryl tensed a bit. “... We're... gonna be friends, maybe get ta know each other 'gain.”

 

“... Are you hoping for a second shot with him?”

 

“... I don't know, Rick.” Daryl whispered, setting his menu down. “... That depends.”

 

“... On?”

 

“... What is it that ya want? What're we ta each other?”

 

Rick swallowed thickly, hesitating a moment, thinking, before speaking. “Daryl.... I like you. Last night was... incredible...”

 

“But..?” Daryl whispered.

 

“I don't think... it's romantic feelings. When I was talking with Michonne today, flirting with her and feeling her touch my arm... it felt intense, real.”

 

Daryl's heart dropped a bit. Rick hadn't been feeling what he was. “So... what... do ya think it was?”

 

“I'm not sure. I'm attracted to you, I find you handsome and I enjoy being with you, I just don't see us... getting romantically involved.”

 

The mechanic closed his eyes, feeling the pain and frustration build. He bit his tongue to stave off the tears and then looked at Rick. “So... all the flirtin n' teasin' on the phone, cuddlin last night, sleepin together... almost kissin... what was that?”

 

Rick swallowed, looking down at the table. “I can't explain it. I'm drawn to you. I want to protect you. You feel like family.”

 

Daryl looked down at the table as well. He couldn't be too mad at Rick. He did want to pursue something with the man, but at the same time he couldn't bury his feelings for Paul. He'd tried with Negan and failed. Of course, Negan didn't help the matters by being a major possessive asshole. He felt with Rick, maybe he could forget Paul. He couldn't force Rick into a relationship he didn't want, however. “... So... Michonne... you want to try with her?”

 

“... I do.”

 

Daryl couldn't fault the man. Rick had never had a relationship with another man before. Michonne was a woman, she was something familiar. She was very attractive, playful but stern, good with kids, a good cook and very independent. She was a woman Rick deserved. With a sigh, Daryl ran his hands over his face, more tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision. His heart ached and his chest felt tight. He swallowed the lump around his throat.

 

“Daryl-” Rick felt his own chest tighten at the broken look on Daryl's face. He almost wanted to take it all back and kiss the tears away, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He would be lying to himself and to Daryl, and it would only hurt the mechanic more.

 

“D-Don't, Rick. Jus... please don't.” Daryl grabbed his jacket and motorcycle helmet and scooted out of the booth.

 

Rick watched him walk past and Sasha opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, but stopped herself. When he walked out the door, she marched over to Rick. “What did you do?!” She glared.

 

Rick blinked up at her. “Wha-”

 

“Daryl has only ever once looked like that! What did you say to him?” Sasha stood at the table, hands on her hips. How dare this asshole hurt Daryl? At the tears in the man's eyes however, she faltered. "Hey... you okay?" Rick sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, much like Daryl had. He ignored the woman and grabbed his own jacket, leaving the restaurant.

 

 

Daryl went back to the shop without eating and sent Glenn to lunch. He picked up Glenn's work on the Chrysler that had been brought in. His phone dinged, but he didn't want to look at it in case it was Rick. He worked the rest of the day, trying to keep his emotions in check and helping out the part-timers, teaching them patiently. Once the day was done and over with, he went up to the studio and checked his phone.

 

_1 New Message From Unknown_

 

Daryl blinked in confusion and opened the message.

 

_Unknown: Hey, Daryl, its Paul. I got your number from Michonne. Don't be mad at her, I tricked her into giving it to me. I just wanted to say it was great seeing you and I'm glad we can be friends again._

 

Daryl stared down at the message. He had no other messages. Rick was going to leave him alone, he guessed. With a sigh, he dropped down onto his couch and saved Paul's number into his phone under the name 'Hippie'; and then changed Rick's contact name to Rick Grimes. He was tempted to invite Paul over for dinner, but with how his emotions were at the moment, he didn't think that was a good idea. So instead, he changed clothes and worked out for a couples hours, then made dinner for himself and took a shower. As he laid down in bed with his phone, he sent Paul a quick message.

 

_Me: Ain't gonna be mad. It's great seein ya, too. Welcome home, Hippie._

 

 

Paul chuckled up at his phone when he received the message. He lay in bed in his apartment downtown, hair drying from a shower and wearing one of Daryl's old shirts that he'd forgotten to give back to him. It was a Def Leppard shirt that had holes in it and was a bit big on him. He opened his keyboard and typed in a message.

 

_Me: Starting with pet names already, are we?_

 

_Sexy Mechanic: Do ya have a real name? Don't recall ya tellin me it._

 

Paul's smile widened. He loved that Daryl teased back now.

 

_Me: I believe I told you my name is Jesus._

 

_Sexy Mechanic: Bull shit. Ya don't look nothin like Jesus. I'll jus stick ta Hippie fer now._

 

_Me: Well, then, shall I call you Redneck?_

 

_Sexy Mechanic: Nah, call me Your Majesty._

 

The artist giggled almost uncontrollably, nearly dropping his phone to the hardwood floor. He could imagine Daryl, laying in his own bed and chuckling to himself. His heart was full and his cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

 

_Me: Only in bed, dear, and not in front of the children!_

 

_Sexy Mechanic: Good night, Paul._

 

_Me: Good night, Daryl. Dream about me?_

 

_Sexy Mechanic: In yer dreams._

 

Paul let out one last chuckle before plugging his phone into it's charge cord and rolling over to go to sleep. He cuddled his pillow, nuzzling down into the shirt with a smile.

 


	2. Ch. 2

 

 

When Paul woke up the next morning, he was briefly confused as to where he was. There was a window above his bed, shining the sun brightly upon him. 'Need to put a damn curtain over that.' He thought as he remembered where he was. He sat up and looked around his room. Books were piled every where, some piles nearly reaching the ceiling. 'Need to get some bookcases.' Was his second thought. With a yawn, he reached over to the his bedside table and grabbed his cellphone, disconnecting the charger and turning it on to see if he had any missed messages.

 

2 _New Messages from Sexy Mechanic_

 

He stared in confusion at the contact name before he grinned widely, the details of last night returning to the forefront of his brain. He swiped the message open and chuckled at the first message and then the message that followed twenty minutes later.

 

_Sexy Mechanic: Mornin, Hippie._

 

_Sexy Mechanic: Doesn't Jesus always rise with the sun? Why the fuck ain't ya awake, yet?_

 

Paul flopped back on his bed, smiling affectionately. He typed out a quick response before getting up and going into his bathroom to prepare for the day.

 

_Me: I'm surprised you're awake. Are rednecks not allergic to the sun? Oh, wait, that's vampires. Wait... what's the difference?_

 

 

Daryl heard his phone ding from its place on the work table and glanced at it from the car engine he was putting together. The little light in the corner started blinking. He knew who it more than likely was. There was only two people who would be texting him this early in the morning, and only one that he was actually talking to at the moment. Finishing with the last screw, he grabbed a rag from his back pocket and wiped the engine oil from fingers before grabbing for the Android. He turned it on and smiled.

 

_1 New Message from Hippie_

 

He swiped the message open and chuckled at Paul's response. They texted back and forth for a few hours, Daryl sometimes taking a while to respond and Paul always quick to respond. Daryl found out Paul's store was an art store that sold all different kinds of art supplies from pencils to canvases, paints to easels, clay of all different colors and tools. Business was still slow since it had just barely opened a few weeks ago, so Paul had a lot of free time to talk. Daryl was perfectly happy talking to Paul while he was working. If it was Rick, he wouldn't respond as fast, whether they were dating or not. He didn't want to distract the sheriff from his job as it could cause quite a few problems.

 

As lunch time rolled around, Paul had stopped talking to him about thirty minutes ago. He figured the man had gotten busy. As Daryl stepped out of the garage, helmet and jacket in hand, he saw Paul walking up to him with a couple grocery bags in hand. Daryl stared at him a bit in confusion.

 

“What're ya doin 'ere?”

 

“What? Not happy to see me?” Paul smiled, eyes twinkling playfully.

 

“Didn't say that. Was jus curious what yer doin 'ere.” Daryl smirked a bit. “Textin not 'nough fer ya? Had ta come see mah face?”

 

Paul chuckled. “My day is never complete without seeing you. Alas, you get my still heart beating.” He stopped just before Daryl, chuckling at the other man's eye roll. “No, I bought a few things from the store. I... I want to cook you lunch since you fed me dinner the night before.”

 

Daryl raised an eyebrow at him. “Ya... want ta cook me lunch?”

 

“Yes. I was going to try to sneak your keys from you so I could surprise you, but you came out sooner than I thought.” The artist paused, looking at the helmet and jacket in the mechanic's hand. “Unless... you have other plans with Rick?”

 

“N-No. I don't. We're... not talkin at the moment.”

 

Paul's eyebrows shot up. “I hope it wasn't because of me. I didn't mean to cause any problems between you two by showing up.”

 

“Wasn't you, Paul. He...” Daryl shifted a bit, looking down at his helmet, biting his bottom lip. “He's not interested in me romantically.”

 

“Oh... oh, Daryl... I'm sorry.” He reached his free hand for Daryl's upper arm, rubbing gently, surprised when Daryl didn't flinch from his touch.

 

“S'fine... 'm confused 'n a little... upset... but... 'm fine.” Daryl whispered. “C'mon, let's go eat.” He tilted his head and Paul followed him around the building and up to the mechanic's studio apartment. Daryl let them in and tosses his jacket and helmet on the couch. “Make yerself comfortable. Yer cookin fer me, after all.”

 

Paul chuckled, setting the bags down on the island and removing his own jacket. “Yes, dear.”

 

Daryl sat at the bar top and watched as Paul started cooking. He drank some water, relaxing to the sound of Paul humming and bobbing to an imaginary beat. He smiled warmly. He'd always known Paul was beautiful, but with his mind clear and heart free of anger, he saw Paul in a new light. This man was gorgeous, he was the epitome of beauty, inside and out.

 

“Paul?”

 

“Hm?” Paul hummed, glancing over his shoulder at Daryl. He couldn't look away for long, he had chicken in a skillet and he really didn't want it to burn.

 

“I missed ya.”

 

Paul nearly dropped the tongs in his hand. His cheeks turned pink and he looked over at Daryl. “... I... I missed you, too. Very much.” Daryl smiled shyly. Paul smiled back and turned back around after a moment and quickly finished up lunch.

 

 

Daryl returned to work after they ate and cleaned up the kitchen. Paul said he would text him later, which meant probably as soon as he returned to the shop an got bored. They talked back and forth again. Paul talking about his experiences in France and new recipes he wanted to try. Daryl told him about the renovations to his shop and how he came to know Rick. About 5 o'clock, as he was beginning to finish up a car and start closing up shop, his phone dinged, and then dinged again ten seconds later. He drove the car out to the client and then gave the soccer mom her receipt. After she left, he pulled his phone out and looked down at it.

 

_1 New Message from Hippie_

 

_1 New Message from Rick Grimes_

 

Nervously, he read Rick's message first.

 

_Rick Grimes: Daryl... can you please come out to dinner with me so we can talk? You're my friend, Daryl, I don't want to lose that. Carl and Judy love you and will be disappointed if you stop coming around._

 

Daryl sighed shakily and opened Paul's message.

 

_Hippie: I'm planning on trying one of those new recipes tonight. I'd love it if you would join me._

 

He mechanic bit his bottom lip. He turned his phone off and set it down, swallowing thickly. He leaned his elbows on the counter next to the register and rubbed his face, heart beating fast.

 

“Daryl?”

 

Daryl looked up and saw Glenn standing in the door, watching him worriedly.

 

“You okay?”

 

“... No. Not really.” Daryl whispered, reaching down to play with his phone, turning it over in his hand and picking at the back of its case. “I... there's a decision I need ta make... 'n 'm not sure 'm ready ta make it.”

 

“... Wanna go out for a drink with me? I've always been told I'm a good listener.”

 

Going out for a drink with Glenn sounded better than going to dinner with Rick and talking about his romantic feelings for the sheriff and fucking up what could be a very close brotherhood, or going to dinner with Paul and maybe making an even bigger fuck up.

 

“Yeah. Lemme grab a shower.”

 

Glenn smiled. “Great. Meet you at Joe's in an hour?”

 

“Sounds great, Korea.” Daryl whispered affectionately.

 

 

Paul stared down at his phone as 7 o'clock rolled around. His new recipe sat in two plates at his table, but Daryl hadn't answered, yet. He sighed, fearing he'd pushed the mechanic too far. Setting his phone down, he rubbed his face and ran his fingers through his hair.

 

 

Rick sat in his chair on the veranda, beer in one hand and phone in the other. Daryl hasn't responded, yet. Rick's chest constricted. He'd really hurt the man. With a heavy sigh, he took a long swig of his beer and laid his head back against the chair, rocking slowly.

 

“Rick..?”

 

The sheriff turned his head. “Yeah?”

 

“Dinner's ready...” Michonne whispered. “... Daryl still hasn't responded?”

 

“No...”

 

“Give him space. Sometimes he needs to work things out on his own.” She whispered, reaching to pet Rick's hair.

 

“... Yeah.”

 

 

“I dunno what ta do, Glenn.” Daryl whispered, hand holding his glass of whiskey.

 

“It's a tough situation, man. It sounds like you could've had something really good with this cop.” Glenn whispered back, sipping from his own beer.

 

“I ain't what he wants, though.”

 

“He wants your friendship, your brotherhood.”

 

“Ain't what I want.”

 

“It sounds to me like you don't know what you want, Daryl. You had something amazing with Paul and there's a possibility you both want to try again, now that you've both matured for the better. It could be even more amazing, but it would take time. Neither of your wounds have healed completely, yet. It's good you're starting out as friends.”

 

Daryl sighed, downing the whiskey and waving to the bartender for another. “Think it's time fer a huntin' trip. Need ta take a step back and look at everything closely, away from everyone.”

 

Glenn nodded in agreement, but he worried. “You're... not going to take ten bottles of Jack with you this time, are you?”

 

“Nah... can't think clearly if 'm shit faced.” Daryl smiled a bit. “Wanna go get somethin ta eat?” He asked, downing the shot of whiskey placed in front of him.

 

“Sure. Maggie's been nagging me to invite you out for weeks. Let me call her, see if she wants to join.” Glenn said, pulling his phone out. He called Maggie real quick and she agreed to meet them at Alexandria Cafe.

 

When Glenn and Daryl arrived, Maggie was waiting at a table near the front. She stood to greet them and hugged Daryl tightly.

 

“How're you doin, sweetie?” She asked softly. “Glenn said you seemed down lately.”

 

“Jus dealin wit some stuff, Mags.” Daryl whispered and they sat down. One of the waitresses brought them a menu and took their drink orders. She left to go fill them and Daryl watched Glenn and Maggie kiss softly across from him. “... How's the baby?” Last week, Glenn had to leave early and meet Maggie at the hospital because she was cramping and bleeding.

 

Maggie smiled brightly. “It's fine. There's a hemorrhage in my uterus, but I'm on some medicine to get it taken care of. The doctor told me to take it easy for a few weeks and they'd check it at the next sonogram.”

 

Daryl nodded, smiling a bit. “Good. Thought of any names, yet?”

 

“Well, we're definitely leaning toward Hershel if it's a boy.” Maggie whispered. Her father had died five months ago and she wanted to honor his name.

 

“And we're thinking Darlene if it's a girl.” Glenn smiled, stroking Maggie's hand on the table. Daryl blinked. “Yeah... we... wanna name her after you, Daryl.”

 

Maggie smiled at the flabbergasted look on the hunter's face. “Daryl... you're family to us. You were there for us after my Daddy died, you were there for us even before then. Even if it is a boy, we want you to be the baby's God-Father. If somethin happens to us, we want you to take care of it.”

 

Daryl swallowed thickly an looked down at the table. “... I'd be honored.” He smiled as Maggie reached her other hand out and held his hand. He held it back, tightly.

 

 

When Daryl got home it was close to nine and he was tired. He frowned when he saw a vase of roses on the porch in front of his door. He knelt down to them and searched for the tag, but it didn't have one and there was no card. A bit weirded out, he picked them up and unlocked his door, bringing them inside. If they were from Paul, he didn't want to throw them out. It was unlike Paul to give him something and not let it know it was from him, though. He always left a sappy card or something he drew. He set the vase of roses on the living room table and left them there while he went to pack for his hunting trip.

 

He took out his usual duffle bag and packed some of his clothes. He'd stop by the store in the morning and buy some water and a few food essentials. Glenn was perfectly happy to take care of the shop while he was gone, so it made Daryl feel better about leaving for a trip on such short notice and borrowing Maggie's father's truck since she was put on bed rest for a while. With his bag packed, he left it by the door and went to his kitchen to throw out anything that might spoil over the week or two he was gone. That done, he took the trash out, tying the bag off and walking down the stairs to the dumpster a few feet away. One his way back, he felt like someone was watching him and stopped by the stairs, looking around. Shuddering, he hurried back up the steps and into his apartment, shutting and locking the door.

 

 

The next afternoon, Paul walked into the auto shop and looked around. Glenn walked to the front, hearing the bell ring. He grinned brightly.

 

“Hey, Paul!” The Asian man shook Paul's hand tightly. “I'd hug you, but I'm a little greasy and sweaty.”

 

Paul smiled. “It's no problem. Um... is Daryl here? I tried upstairs, but he didn't answer.”

 

“Daryl needed to get out of town for a while. He left early this morning.” Glenn replied.

 

“O-Oh...” Paul bit his bottom lip. Shit. Maybe he had pushed the man too far. “Well... uh... let me know when he gets back?”

 

Glenn smiled affectionately. “I'm sure he'll let you know himself.” The artist nodded, rubbing his arm with his hand. “Hey, Paul... it wasn't you. He's just dealing with a lot right now. I promise you.”

 

Paul smiled. “Thanks, Glenn.”

 

The Asian nodded, then smiled more. “Hey, Maggie's wanting to throw a little party this Friday. Why don't you come?”

 

“Isn't she supposed to be resting?”

 

“She is, but she's going nuts staying at home doing nothing. Michonne and Sasha are helping her plan and get ready for it. It'll be fun, Paul. Please join us.”

 

“Well, I suppose I shouldn't deny the pregnant lady anything.” Paul grinned. He patted Glenn's shoulder. “I'll see you Friday.”

 

“Great! I'll tell Maggie you're coming! She'll be so happy to see you!”

 

With one last hand shake, Paul left the shop and went around back to the stair case. He stared up at it, reaching to hold the railing. He felt nostalgic, staring at the rusted iron steps. He could still faintly see P+D etched into the large white pole with a heart around the letters. He'd done it as a prank and had expected Daryl to paint over it, but it was still there. He smiled, fingering over the heart and letters lovingly. When Daryl got back, he would apologize for trying to push him too fast. He turned and started walking back to his car, hands in the pockets of his jacket.

 

“Paul?”

 

The artist stopped and turned, frowning a bit when he saw Rick stepping out of his police cruiser. “Sheriff...” He nodded politely, waiting as the cop approached him.

 

“You seen Daryl? He's not answering any of my calls or texts.”

 

Paul sighed. “I have not. Glenn says he's left town for a while to work some things out.”

 

Rick groaned and rubbed his face. “This is all my fault.”

 

“Rick, it's no one's fault. You can't help the way you feel. This is just how Daryl copes. He just needs his space sometimes. Hunting helps him focus and think. He'll returning in a week or two.”

 

The sheriff stared at him, hands on his hips. “You sound like you've been through this before.”

 

The artist sighed and shook his head. “More times than I care to remember.”

 

“It's winter and it's supposed to snow tomorrow. Is he really alright out there?”

 

“He'll be fine, Rick. He's got a cabin with a fireplace and he hunts down all the food he needs. Like I said.... he does this all the time.” Paul wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck to keep the bite of the cold wind out. “Just be patient. He'll come to us when he's ready.” That said, Paul turned and walked to his car. He heard the cop get back in the cruiser and drive off. As he sat behind the wheel of his Buick, he laid his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. He was worried about Daryl out there. He always worried. He'd learned to be patient, though. Daryl always came home. He always came home to him.

 

 

Sitting in his cabin in front of the lit fireplace, Daryl stared into the flames, mind racing with thoughts about Rick and Paul. He didn't know what to do. He fiddled with the ring on his neck. It still felt warm and he felt peaceful having it in his fingers. He loved Paul, deeply. Their relationship was over; though, he felt they had a new chance to start over. He wanted to get to know Paul again. The man seemed more mature. He was still playful and flirted, but he seemed to see things clearer, much like Daryl. He thought things out better and spoke his mind rather than hiding his thoughts. He didn't seem so scared of commitment.

 

Rick, on the other hand, wasn't afraid to show his affection. He had two kids that Daryl loved deeply and could see himself raising side by side with the sheriff. He could see them owning a house and having birthday parties, Christmases, Carl's and Judy's prom date pictures in front of the fireplace, BBQs in the backyard while kids played in the pool and romantic nights in their bed. It was a beautiful dream; but, that's all it was, a dream, a fantasy. He could see the same happening with Paul. Only with Paul, it felt real, it felt like a future that could very well come true... if Paul wanted the same.

 

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and took a sip from his glass of sweet tea. That was all for tonight. He had a headache and he just wanted to lay down to sleep. He stood up and put the fire out, casting the room in shadows. He went into his room, undressing and flopping down on the bed on his stomach, hugging his pillow and burying his face in it after pulling the sheet over himself. He fell asleep quickly. He was exhausted after the long drive and then cleaning the cabin up so it would be habitable for the next week or so.

 

Warm, gentle hands slid up his back, massaging and rubbing lovingly. He moaned softly at the familiar feeling. Lips traveled up his spine, paying extra attention to each scar as if trying to kiss the pain away. He turned his head, sighing softly into his pillow as those hands drew the sheet away, letting it flutter to the floor. He was bare to the cold air of the room, but those hands warmed his skin, sliding up and down his thighs and gently parting them, forcing him up onto his knees. A warm, wet tongue laved up his scrotum and prodded his hole, making him moan out and drool a bit on his pillow. Oh, that tongue could do such wicked things to him, thrusting and licking, teeth nipping oh so gently at the rim.

 

Those hands kept his cheeks apart and he flushed at the feeling of being vulnerable. His lover could see everything and they moaned as they sucked at his scrotum, bringing one of his balls into their mouths. Daryl pushed back into his lover's face. It was so dark, he couldn't see. They felt so familiar, he could faintly smell charcoal and oil based paint. That tongue was back, prodding at his hole harder and deeper and Daryl's mind went blank as a finger soon joined in on the fun. He panted heavily, thighs trembling and cock hard and heavy between his legs. He jolted and moaned out when that finger crooked and prodded his prostate.

 

“Paul..!”

 

Daryl jolted awake, neck craning up to look around the room. He was laying on his back, sweaty and writhing on the bed, his pillow and sheets on the floor, boxers wet with his cum.

 

“Shit...” He groaned and flopped his head back on the mattress. “Fuckin Paul Rovia... 'dream about me' my ass.”

 


	3. Ch. 3

 

 

A week later, Paul's shop was busier. Thanksgiving was in three days and people were getting some Christmas shopping done before shops closed up for the holiday. Around 5, it finally slowed down enough for him to restock some of his shelves. Standing in the back room, he looked through some boxes until he found what he needed. He heard the bell ring and smiled.

 

“Just a minute!” He yelled and tried to pick up the box, it was a bit heavy and it took him a second, but he got it in his arms and he stepped back through the door into the store. He spotted a man in the corner, looking up at one of the paintings that decorated his shop. “Hello. Can I help you?” He asked, walking over to the counter and dropping the box onto the floor. He noted the leather jacket tossed across the counter and smiled. He knew that jacket anywhere.

 

The man turned around and smiled. “Yeah, can I take ya ta dinner?”

 

Paul blinked and stood up. He hadn't expected that. He smiled a bit shyly when he saw Daryl smiling at him nervously. “Daryl... when did you get back?” He asked, stepping closer.

 

“Last night...” The other man rasped.

 

“Did you have a good time?”

 

Daryl nodded, reaching to fiddle with a bucket of clay on a shelf near him. “Yeah... was nice. Been so busy wit the shop I forgot how much I enjoyed bein in the woods and sittin in the cabin.”

 

“You sound unsure.”

 

The mechanic shrugged. “Was lonely...” He whispered.

 

Paul nodded. “Did you... figure out what it was you needed to think about?” He asked softly, turning back to the box. He needed to get it to the paint aisle and stock the shelf.

 

“Lemme get that...” Daryl said, stepping over to him.

 

“No, I got...” Paul paused, then smiled. “Thank you.” He stepped aside and watched Daryl pick the box up with ease, eyeing the bulging biceps through Daryl's long sleeve button down shirt.

 

“Where ya need it?”

 

“Over here...” Paul led the way through the shop and to the back wall. “You can set it on the floor.” He knelt down as Daryl set the box on the floor and then cut it open. “So... did you figure everything out?”

 

“Yeah... took me a few days, but... I know what it is that I want. I jus... don't think 'm ready fer it, yet.” Daryl put his hands in his back pockets, watching Paul stock the small paint jars on the bottom shelf. “'m gonna talk ta Rick tamorrow, let 'im know 'm okay wit being friends and wish him luck wit Michonne.”

 

Paul chuckled. “He'll need it. That woman is a force of nature.”

 

Daryl snorted. “No shit...” He looked around. “Did ya get busy?”

 

“Yeah. I know, it looks like a tornado went through here. I'm starting to get the Christmas shopping rush. It's good for business, but its hard on just one person. I'm not making enough, yet, to hire some help.”

 

“I bet Maggie would be glad to help, as long as it gets 'er outta the house 'n she don't have ta lift anythang.”

 

“I might bring it up with her.” Paul finished stocking and picked that box up.

 

“... What time d'ya close?”

 

Paul looked down at his watch. “In about thirty minutes. I've gotta clean the store and close my register.”

 

Daryl nodded. “Want some help?”

 

The artist smiled. “Are you sure?”

 

“I don't mind.”

 

Paul smiled more and together they had the store cleaned up, the shelves stocked and the register closed by 6:30. As Paul locked the door to his shop, he smiled at Daryl.

 

“Thank you for your help, Daryl.”

 

“Was nothin.” The mechanic smiled.

 

Paul wanted to ask him to dinner, but he wanted to let Daryl make the first move, so he turned to the mechanic and cleared his throat.

 

“Wanna grab some dinner?” Daryl asked softly.

 

The artist's heart raced happily. “I'd love to, Daryl. Where would you like to go? Alexandria Cafe?”

 

“Nah, wanna take ya somewhere else. 's nearby. We can walk there easily.” Daryl turned to walk down the sidewalk and Paul was quick to catch up.

 

“I'm glad you're ba-AAck!” Paul slipped on some ice and grabbed onto Daryl's arm.

 

Daryl nearly slipped himself, but gained his footing. His other arm shot out, grabbing Paul's waist and pulling him up against his chest. “Ya alright?”

 

Paul blushed, embarrassed from slipping and almost bringing Daryl down with him. “Y-Yes, thank you.”

 

“May as well hang onta me, 'pparently ya don't know how ta walk, ya damn toddler.” The words sounded harsh, but the smile on Daryl's lips told Paul he was teasing.

 

Paul chuckled, his hand keeping hold of Daryl's arm as they walked, feeling his warmth even through his thick leather jacket. “Maybe if you didn't have such long legs I wouldn't have to try to keep up.”

 

“Ain't mah fault ya was born short.”

 

The artist chuckled more and nearly slipped again, latching onto the mechanic's arm with both hands now. Daryl stopped walking, barely catching himself and Paul again.

 

“Jesus, Paul... do I have ta carry ya?”

 

Paul blushed and smiled. “If you don't mind everyone thinking we just got married.” Something flashed in Daryl's eyes and Paul thought for a second maybe he'd said something wrong, but then it was gone and Daryl was smirking. He bent down suddenly, one hand sliding under Paul's knees and the other around the artist's torso. The artist let out an undignified squeak (a sound he would deny for all eternity) and he latched onto Daryl's shoulders as he was lifted off the ground. He laughed when the shock faded. “You could've warned me!”

 

“Nah, s'more fun when yer surprised.”

 

“You're terrible!” A few people looked over at them and Paul hid his face in Daryl's neck, blushing with embarrassment and happiness.

 

Daryl stopped walking and looked at him. “Want me ta set ya back down?”

 

Paul smiled against Daryl's neck. “No.” His heart raced. Daryl was just so wonderful now. He could feel himself falling fast for the man again. He wanted to enjoy being in his arms for a while.

 

The mechanic stood there for a moment more before continuing to walk. A few minutes later he stopped in front of an Italian restaurant and Daryl set Paul down on the ground. Paul looked up at it.

 

“What is this place?”

 

“Glenn told me bout it. Said he brought Maggie 'ere on their first date and she loved it. Been wantin ta try it out for a year now.” Daryl said and opened the door. He held it open so Paul could step inside, sighing at the warmth.

 

The host was standing behind a podium and smiled at them. “Hello! Welcome to Eric's Italian Plaza! Table for two?”

 

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

 

The man grabbed two menus and led them around the wall and to a table along the far wall across from the bar. They took their seats and he gave them their menus. “Enjoy!” He smiled and walked away, leaving them on their own to look over their menus.

 

“Wow, so many choices.” Paul mused. He glanced over his menu at Daryl, who was already gazing at him. He'd taken his jacket off and was in just the dark blue button down shirt. The first two buttons were undone, revealing the pale expanse of his neck and part of his chest. Paul could see a hint of a silver chain, but not what was attached to the chain. His beard was trimmed and even his hair had been trimmed a bit, coming to rest below his ears and framing his eyes, a few strands resting in front of those blue orbs. 'I'm in trouble...' The artist swallowed thickly and looked back down at his menu. “S-So... what are you going to get?”

 

Daryl glanced down at his menu on the table. “Chicken alfredo maybe...”

 

Paul nodded, smiling as their waitress came over with some bread sticks and marinara sauce. “What can I get you gentlemen to drink?”

 

“Can we get a wine menu?” Daryl asked and Paul blinked at him.

 

“Of course. I'll be right back.” She turned and walked away.

 

“That alright wit ya?” The mechanic asked and Paul smiled.

 

“Daryl Dixon, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you're trying to wine and dine me. I'm not even properly dressed for it.” Paul chuckled. “Of course I'm fine with it.”

 

“Would ya... like it... if this were a date?” Daryl asked softly.

 

Paul blinked, lips parting a bit in shock and confusion. “Does this have something to do with the decision you made?”

 

“Kinda...” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Paul... I wanna give us a second chance, but 'm not sure 'm ready, yet. 'n... I don't know what it is that you want.”

 

Paul's heart leaped in his chest and he blushed. Daryl thought the blush looked gorgeous in the dim lighting of the restaurant. “Daryl... I-I do want to give us a second chance and I understand your hesitance. I'm a bit hesitant myself. So... why don't we continue as friends and see where that takes us?”

 

Daryl nodded in agreement, leaning back when their waitress brought back a wine menu. Together, they decided on a wine to try and then asked for two glasses of water. It only took her a moment to bring the water and the wine, pouring them each a glass.

 

“Are you ready or would you like more time?”

 

Paul smiled. “I think we're ready.”

 

“Alright, what can I get you?” She took out her notepad and a pen.

 

“I will have the cannoli al ragu.” Paul smiled, closing his menu and handing it to her.

 

“I'll jus' have the chicken alfredo.” Daryl said, handing the waitress his menu as well.

 

The waitress smiled. “I'll have those right out.” She said, gently laying a hand on Daryl's shoulder as she passed.

 

Paul raised an eyebrow at the touch, but held his tongue. She was probably just looking for a good tip. He could tell Daryl wasn't happy about the touch, however. So, he smiled and sipped his wine. “It's not her fault you're so damn attractive.”

 

Daryl let out a laugh. “Yer jus as attractive. She could've easily flirted wit ya.”

 

“Nah. Ladies like the dangerous looking type, and you are most definitely dangerous looking.” Paul picked up a bread stick to start munching on. He hated drinking wine without eating first, so he figured he'd better start on something. “When are you planning to talk to Rick?”

 

“I'm gonna call 'im tamorrow, see if he wants ta 'ave lunch.”

 

“Damn. I was hoping to hog you all to myself.” Paul smiled.

 

Daryl chuckled leaning forward again. “I came ta ya first, 'least let Rick have lunch.”

 

Paul smiled and nodded, taking another bite of the bread. They munched on the bread in silence, taking slow sips of their wine and waiting for their meals to come out. It didn't take too long, the restaurant wasn't too busy due to the cold weather outside and soon the waitress was bringing out their meals. She set them down in front of them, bending over more so for Daryl than Paul. Daryl looked away, focusing on a picture on the wall.

 

“Can I get you anything else?' She asked cheerily.

 

“No, that'll be all.” Paul replied, reaching over to take Daryl's hand in his own. “We'll be ordering dessert shortly, however. It's our anniversary.”

 

The waitress looked a bit disappointed, but smiled anyways. “Well, congratulations!” She turned and left.

 

Daryl chuckled, turning his hand to hold Paul's. “Was that necessary?”

 

“It worked, didn't it?” Paul laughed. “The girl damn near flashed you in her low cut shirt. I'm surprised she didn't put on a miniskirt and drop a fork so she could bend over and flash you her underwear.” Daryl shuddered a bit in disgust. “Do I need to flash my chest at you, make the image go away?”

 

“Don't need ta flash me if I already know what it looks like.” Daryl smirked. “Jus gotta close mah eyes and imagine it.”

 

Paul laughed when Daryl closed his eyes and licked his lips. He released Daryl's hand and smacked it gently. “You're terrible.” Daryl chuckled and opened his eyes.

 

“I learned from the best.”

 

As they ate, they teased and flirted back and forth. It did feel more like a date than a friendly dinner, and to an outsider it probably did look like a date. To the two men, however, they were just friends comfortable enough with each other to be themselves. It had taken Daryl a long time to be able to comfortable with himself and now he was going to show Paul that he could be a good man, a man that deserved to stand by Paul's side. He felt the ring resting against his sternum and smiled at it's warmth.

 

 

The next morning, Daryl woke with his alarm clock and grabbed his phone to shut it off. He laid there a moment and sighed in content as he remembered last night. After they ate, Paul dropped Daryl off at the shop. With the snow and ice, Daryl hadn't wanted to drive his motorcycle, so he'd walked to Paul's shop after dropping the truck back off at Maggie's. With a yawn, he opened the messages and tapped on Rick's name and started typing a message.

 

_Me: Hey, Rick... 'm back in town. Wanna talk ta ya. Can we meet fer lunch?_

 

He set the phone back down and climbed out of bed, walking into his bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth. He didn't have to wait long for Rick to respond. As soon as he'd spit out the toothpaste, his phone started ringing. He quickly wiped his mouth and went to answer it.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Daryl... I'm so glad to hear from you.” Rick's voice was happy, but weary sounding. “I've been worrying all week. Carl's mad at me cause he thinks I ran you off.”

 

Daryl winced a bit and went into his kitchen to start cooking breakfast. “Sorry, Rick... I jus... needed some space and time to think things over.”

 

“I know, Daryl. I'm sorry I put you in a position to have to do that.”

 

“It wasn't you, Rick. I jus had a lot goin on all at once and it... it was makin me confused.” He pulled out the carton of eggs and a package of bacon, glad he'd gone shopping right after he got back. “So, can we meet for lunch?”

 

“Of course. I'll have to cancel my lunch with Micho-”

 

“Rick, no, don't cancel if ya already have plans.” He set them down and turned the fire under his iron skillet on.

 

“Daryl, she'll understand. I really want to see you.”

 

Daryl bit his bottom lip in thought, then nodded. “Alright. I'll see ya 'round noon, then?”

 

Rick hummed his acknowledgment. “I'm glad you're back, Daryl... I really am.”

 

“Yeah.. me too.”

 

They said their goodbyes and he hung up. After cooking and eating breakfast, he got dressed quickly and went down to open the shop. The day was rather uneventful. Everyone was doing shopping for Thanksgiving tomorrow and weren't too worried about their cars. Right at noon, Rick's cruiser pulled up and he got out. Daryl met him at the door and Rick surprised him by hugging him. Daryl patted his shoulder a bit awkwardly.

 

“Nice ta see you, too, man.” Daryl chuckled as Rick pulled away.

 

Rick smiled. “You had me so worried, going out there by yourself in the snow.”

 

“It ain't too bad if ya know what you're doing.” He called out to Glenn to let him know he was leaving for lunch before following Rick to the cruiser.

 

Rick drove them to the cafe and they sat in their usual seat. Sasha eyed Rick warily a she gave them their menus and brought them their drinks. Rick nervously avoided eye contact with her. He cleared his throat when she left and leaned forward on the table.

 

“Did you figure out whatever it was that was bothering you?”

 

Daryl nodded, playing with his napkin. “Yeah.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “I's very confused fer a few days, so I jus concentrated on huntin and enjoyin mahself and the sounds'a the forest round me. After I'd relaxed, I's able to sort through mah emotions and find out what it is that I want.” Rick nodded to show he was listening. “Rick, 'm okay wit ya 'n Michie datin. I really am. I believe you 'n I coulda had somethin good, but... we wouldn't 'ave been truly happy, y'know? We'd 'ave been happy fer a while, but... it wouldn't 'ave lasted. With Michie, I think ya can be truly happy.”

 

Rick smiled. “It means a lot to hear you say that, Daryl. She's been so worried and upset that you'd hate her for stealing me.”

 

“She can't steal ya when there's nothin there ta begin wit.” Daryl said, sipping from his tea.

 

“There was something there, Daryl. We both felt it. It just wasn't right to pursue it.” Rick whispered and Daryl nodded. “So... you want me to be happy... but what about you? What did you decide for yourself?”

 

“... 'm gonna pursue Paul, but not right now. We're both still healin over last time, so... we're gonna be friends fer a while, get ta know each other.”

 

The sheriff nodded his understanding. “Good idea.”

 

They ate lunch and both returned to work, feeling better about their friendship. Daryl promised to visit Carl and Judith soon. With that, they separated, each going back to their jobs. The rest of the mechanic's day is spent texting back and forth with Paul.

 

_Hippie: How'd it go with Rick?_

 

_Me: Really well. Apparently Michie thinks she stole Rick from me. She's feelin so bad 'bout it. Gonna have ta treat her ta dinner soon._

 

_Hippie: Poor Michie. Don't be too mean to her!_

 

Daryl snorted, walking up the steps to his apartment. He stopped in his tracks when he saw another vase of roses, yellow this time. He picked the vase up, once again searching for a card or tag and finding none. He opened his door and stepped inside, locking up quickly. He set the roses down next to the dead roses on his table. Frowning, he picked the dead ones up and threw them away.

 

_Me: I appreciate the gesture, Paul, but ya know I don't care for receiving flowers._

 

 

Paul frowned, staring down at the message. He hadn't sent Daryl any flowers. The only flower he'd ever given Daryl was a single red rose on their first date.

 

 

_Hippie: I didn't send you any flowers, Daryl. Are you sure they aren't from Rick?_

 

Daryl shook his head. Rick had no reason to send him flowers.

 

_Me: Why would Rick send me flowers?_

 

_Hippie: Beats me. You know him better than I do. Maybe you have a secret admirer._

 

Daryl frowned. He didn't like the sound of that. He checked his door again, then all his windows. He chucked the yellow roses in the trash along with the dead red roses. He'd talk to Rick in the morning about it. Sighing, he changed his clothes and flopped down on the bed.

 

_Me: I'm goin to sleep. Too tired for this shit._

 

_Hippie: Good night, Daryl. Call me if you need company._

 

 

Paul stared down at the messages worriedly. Daryl had told him about Negan and the man's possessive streak and how he continued to harass Daryl. He hoped Daryl talked to Rick about the flowers. Sighing, he put his phone up and rolled over in his own bed to try to get some sleep.

 


	4. Ch. 4

 

 

The next morning, Daryl woke and stretched in his bed. It was nice being home in his own bed. He'd enjoyed his time at the cabin, but he'd gotten lonely. He knew exactly what he was missing. He'd wanted Paul there with him, desperately. The artist invaded his dreams every night. He'd woken up every morning with either a hard on or his boxers sticky with cum. With a soft groan, he sat up and ran a hand through his hair. He grabbed his phone off the table and opened the messages.

 

_1 New Message from Hippie_

 

_Hippie: Good morning, Daryl. I missed you yesterday. We should grab drinks tonight._

 

Daryl smiled and rubbed his beard. He quickly typed out a response.

 

_Me: Mornin', Paul. Today's Thanksgiving, so don't think a lot of bars are gonna be open._

 

Shit. It is Thanksgiving. Daryl sighed. His shop was closed today so his employees could have it off and spend it with their families. He stood up and went into his bathroom to get ready for the day.

 

 

Paul blinked and looked at his calender. The mechanic was right. “Huh...” He murmured to himself. No reason to open his shop, then. How had he lost track of time? He frowned. All of his friends were going with their families today. Tara was going with Rosita to Rosita's family. Michonne was going to be with Rick's family. Eugene was out of town. Maggie and Glenn were taking Beth to Glenn's family two towns over. Sasha and Tyreese had their cafe open for the morning, but were closing down at 1 to go be with their family. He looked down at his phone and typed out a message.

 

_Me: Any plans for Thanksgiving, handsome?_

 

While he waited for Daryl to respond, he went to his kitchen to see what all he had in the way of a Thanksgiving dinner. When his phone beeped, he went over and looked at the message.

 

_Sexy Mechanic: Rick wants me ta come over fer a few hours._

 

Paul sighed in disappointment, leaning against the kitchen counter. When his phone beeped in his hand, he looked down at the new message.

 

_Sexy Mechanic: He says yer invited. Michie'll be there._

 

The artist blinked. He had thought the cop didn't like him. He hesitated. He hasn't met Rick's kids, yet, and he didn't think he was prepared to see how close Rick and Daryl were. He sighed.

 

_Me: Do you want me there, Daryl?_

 

 

Daryl stared down at the question. He did want Paul there, but if Paul was uncomfortable around Rick, he wasn't going to force the artist to go.

 

_Me: Tell ya what, we go over for breakfast, long enough fer Carl and Judy ta see me and eat. Then we'll go back ta yer place and cook a Thanksgiving all our own. Sound good?_

 

 

Paul smiled down at the compromise. He'd worried Daryl would tell him to stay home if he didn't want to be around him. He was seeing more and more how much Daryl had changed.

 

_Me: Sounds wonderful, Daryl. I'll be at your place in a few._

 

_Sexy Mechanic: Great. See ya soon._

 

 

Daryl hurried to get dressed, pulling on black jeans and a dark red dress shirt. He left the first couple buttons undone. He'd noticed how Paul's eyes had been drawn to his neck the other night. He pulled a black vest over the dress shirt and buttoned the two buttons and then styled his hair so it framed his cheeks and accented his eyes. Paul always said his favorite thing about Daryl was his eyes. Twenty minutes later there was a knock on his door and he went over to answer. Paul smiled at him.

 

“Hey, handsome.”

 

Daryl smiled, eyeing the tight dark cargo jeans and dark gray dress shirt under his dark blue jean jacket. “'ey, gimme jus a sec 'n we can go.” He said, stepping away from the door.

 

Paul stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He watched Daryl disappear into the bathroom and heard a spritz of cologne. He knew what Daryl was putting on. He bit his lip, distracting himself with looking around. “What'd you do with those roses?”

 

“Tossed 'em.” Daryl said as he came back in to grab his jacket. “Let's go 'fore Rick sends out a search party.”

 

Paul chuckled and followed him out the door, stopping nearby so Daryl could close and lock up. He stood close enough that he could smell the cologne Daryl had just applied and wanted to whine. 'He's wearing Stetson Black, the tease.' He cleared his throat and started down the stairs, Daryl following close after.

 

They walked close together, sharing warmth against the bite of the cold, winter air. It wasn't a very long walk. They passed an alleyway and a tall, iron fence that surrounded the apartment complex. When they entered the hallway below Rick's apartment, they dried their feet on the mat and started up the stairs.

 

“Well, it's a good thing he lives practically next door to you.” Paul said, staring at Daryl's ass as he followed him up.

 

“Why's that?” Daryl asked, glancing over his shoulder and smirking at Paul's eyes on his ass.

 

“In case anything happens, he'd be at your side in minutes.”

 

Daryl stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to him. “What'cha think's gonna happem ta me?”

 

Paul stopped a few steps down from him. “Well, I don't know. Negan could show up and break in while you're sleeping, or whoever sending you those roses could become aggressive.”

 

“Ya think I can't handle mahself?” Daryl frowned, eyes glaring a bit.

 

“Daryl, I didn't say that.” Paul sighed. He hadn't meant to offend the man.

 

“Paul... thank ya fer worryin bout me.” Daryl whispered, reaching down to push a lock of hair behind Paul's ear. The sincere gratitude shocked the artist. He swallowed thickly and nodded, looking down at the step in front of him shyly. “I promise I'mma talk ta Rick this mornin bout it, see if he can make anythang of it. I ain't seen Negan in several months, but if 'e does come by, I'mma ask fer a restrainin order, okay? Everythang'll be fine.” At Paul's nod of assent, Daryl turned and knocked on Rick's door before walking in, and Paul followed him.

 

“Daryl!” Carl yelled and got up from the floor to hug him.

 

Daryl chuckled and hugged him close. “Hey, kid... been good?”

 

“Yes, sir! I missed you!”

 

“Missed you, too, kid.” Daryl whispered, petting Carl's hair affectionately. “Where's yer sister?”

 

“Dad went to go wake her.” Carl let go of him and then noticed Paul. “Who's that?”

 

Daryl stepped away from the door so Paul could shut it. “This's a friend'a mine 'n Michie, Paul Rovia. Paul this's Carl Grimes, he's a smart little fire cracker.”

 

Paul smiled and knelt down to Carl's level. “Nice to meet you, Carl. Firecracker, huh? Wouldn't want to anger you then, would I? You'd probably kick my butt.”

 

“Yeah, I would! Daryl showed me all kinds of moves.”

 

“Did he now?” Paul smirked up at the mechanic, who looked away. He leaned closer to Carl. “Tell you a secret, he learned them from me.” At Carl's amazed stare, he chuckled. “I'll teach you more.”

 

Rick walked back in, carrying a sleepy Judith. “Hey guys.”

 

Daryl's grin widened. “There's mah lil asskicker.” He said, gently taking her from Rick's arms. She went happily, burying her fingers in his hair and nuzzling his neck.

 

Paul stood slowly and his breath caught in his throat. Seeing Daryl hold such a tiny human so carefully and lovingly brought tears to his eyes. Michonne walked out of the kitchen and over to him.

 

“Isn't that a wonderful sight?” She whispered to him.

 

“Yeah... it is.” Paul whispered back and smiled at her. “He's really changed, hasn't he?”

 

She nodded. “He has. You should've seen it, Paul. Last Christmas when you couldn't make it, he came in with presents for everyone wearing such a gentle and warm smile, hugged Maggie and kissed her cheek, hugged Sasha and me, slapped Glenn on the shoulder and then hugged him, too.”

 

“You're kidding..?”

 

“No. I promise you. I'd never seen him hug so many people at one time. When Tara showed up, she just started crying because she treated him so terribly after you left and he hugged her, forgave her and congratulated her for getting into the police academy. When Alex started yelling at him and blaming him for you leaving, we all thought Daryl would snap and beat the crap out of him.”

 

“What did he do?” Paul feared the answer.

 

“He walked away.” Michonne smiled.

 

“What?”

 

“Yup. He rolled his eyes and walked away to help Maggie finish the cookies. He's worked really hard to get to where he is now, he deserves to be happy and I believe he can achieve that with you, Paul. You better take it slow, though.”

 

“... We are. It's a struggle, believe me. He's so gorgeous and... Michie... he's so wonderful. He's playful, sincere and gentle. I don't know how long I can wait until I just ravish him.” Paul whined, laying his head on her shoulder and watching Rick and Daryl talk.

 

Michonne chuckled. “Try to have patience.” She patted his cheek and walked back into the kitchen.

 

Paul sighed and then felt a small hand in his. He looked down at Carl. “Hey, little man, what's up?”

 

“Wanna play a game with me? I'm playing Halo!”

 

Paul grinned. “I love Halo!” He followed Carl to the TV and sat next to him, picking up the other remote. As they started playing he could over hear Rick and Daryl talking while Daryl fed the baby girl a bottle.

 

“Rick, can I talk ta ya bout somethin?”

 

“Of course, Daryl. What's going on?”

 

“I... I think I have a secret admirer.”

 

Rick raised an eyebrow. “What d'you mean?”

 

“The night 'fore I left, there was a vase of red roses on mah porch, no name'r anythang.”

 

“What'd you do with them?”

 

“Kept 'em on mah table. I was leavin the next mornin, so I didn't think anythang 'bout 'em.” Daryl said, looking down at the little girl in his arms. “Then last night when I came home, there's another vase of yellow roses. Tossed 'em, too.”

 

“Still no name or card?”

 

“Nah.”

 

The sheriff frowned. “Anythang else going on? No sign of anyone other than you being in your apartment?”

 

“Not really. When I's taking out the trash the night 'fore I left, I thought I felt someone watchin me, but that's 'bout it.”

 

Rick nodded. “Alright, well... seems like it might be a harmless crush, but if you start noticing anythang else, let me know. We don't want it to get out of hand. What about Negan? Any sign of him?” Daryl shook his head and Rick relaxed. “Good.”

 

Fifteen minutes later, they all sat at the table to eat breakfast, Daryl mostly focusing on Judy, playing with her and sneaking her some of his eggs and tiny bits of toast. Carl was chatting Paul's ear off about school and games. Paul didn't mind. He loved little kids, and he especially loved talking video games with kids. Paul had grown up on video games, it was one of his favorite hobbies aside from painting and reading. Rick held Michonne's hand, watching his little family and it's newest member. After breakfast, they decided to play a game, Daryl got up to help Rick find it and set it up, handing Judy to Paul.

 

“Oh... okay...” Paul blinked, holding the little girl to him. Daryl could've easily given the child to Michonne or Carl, but he'd entrusted her to Paul. She stared up at him, confused with this new stranger. She reached up for his beard, entangling her fingers in the strands, but not pulling. She smiled widely, cooing and giggling, bouncing her feet against his legs. Paul chuckled. “I can see why Daryl's got his eye on you. You're adorable.”

 

Daryl and Rick soon returned with the card game, Uno, and Daryl shuffled the deck, smirking at Paul holding the little girl. Rick and Carl were helping Michonne get dishes cleaned and ready to use for when she started Thanksgiving dinner. Rick peeked out of the kitchen, not actually intending to help, but mostly so he could see how Paul is with Daryl.

 

“'m glad yer here, Paul.” Daryl whispered.

 

Paul smiled. “Me too. I wasn't going to at first, but... I'm glad I did. I'm having a great time.” He looked down at Judy, pitching his voice higher as he nibbled on her fingers in his beard. “And I never would've met this little cutie if I hadn't. No, I wouldn't have!” She giggled and squealed, bouncing her legs more.

 

Daryl smiled, starting to deal out the cards. Soon they were all sat down at the table playing the game, teasing each other and laughing at jokes. Judy was perfectly content in Paul's lap, her back against his chest and playing with his cards. He'd ask her which card he should use and she grab at one and he'd laugh, playing it even though it was the wrong color or number. They let him get away with it, mostly because it made Judy happy. After a couple rounds, Michonne got up to check the turkey and start on everything else. Daryl and Paul decided to leave so they could go get started on their own.

 

They stopped by the store, thankful it was still open and grabbed a few things. They returned to Paul's apartment and started cooking together, Paul cutting up vegetables and Daryl stuffing the turkey. They worked together flawlessly and once the turkey and stuffing are in the oven, Paul cuts up some cheese and fruit for a snack. While dinner cooked, they sat close together on the couch and watched some movies, their hands and knees brushing and pressing close together.

 

When dinner was finished, Paul opened a bottle of wine that he'd been saving since he returned from France. They sat and ate together, relishing in their combined cooking skills and the wine that went with it wonderfully. After dinner, Daryl stayed to help clean up. He'd only had two glasses of wine, so he could drive home safely enough. As he pulled his jacket on, Paul watched him, hands in his pockets.

 

“It's pretty late, are you sure you don't want to stay the night?”

 

“Don't think that's a good idea, Paul.” Daryl rasped, zipping the jacket up.

 

Paul frowned. “Why?”

 

“I've been drinking, it was a romantic evening and yer jus too damn good lookin tonight fer me ta hold back.” He picked up his helmet. Paul blushed and bit his lower lip. “We said we'd take it slow 'n I intend ta.”

 

“I'm sorry, Daryl...”

 

“Don't be. I wanna do it right this time, though I don't think I've ever jacked off as much when I's sixteen than I have the last few weeks.” He smiled at Paul's blushing cheeks and leans over to kiss them. “I'll call ya tomorrow. Maybe we can get those drinks ya wanted.”

 

“Text me when you get home?” Paul asked and Daryl nodded, walking to the door. Paul followed him and watched him go, shutting and locking the door once he rode off. The artist thanked the Heavens that the roads weren't slick and that Daryl would make it home safely. He went to the bathroom to take a quick shower and go to bed so he could wake up early, work out and open the shop on time. When he laid down in bed, he saw the light at the top of his phone blinking and picked it up.

 

_Sexy Mechanic: Made it home safely. Good night, Paul, see ya tomorrow._

 

Paul smiled happily and quickly typed out a response.

 

_Me: Thank you. Good night, Daryl. I'll dream about you._

 

 

The next two weeks passed quickly. Maggie's doctor said she could do a small amount of work, so she mostly ran Paul's register and helped customers find products while Paul stocked the shelves and answered phone calls. Daryl often stopped by at night to help him clean up and they'd go to dinner. Sometimes they'd go out or Daryl would go home with him and they'd cook something together. Daryl kept his word, he'd go home each night so neither of them would be tempted to rush into sex.

 

With the onset of snow storms, Daryl broke down and bought a car. He didn't see Merle returning with his S-10 anytime soon. So, he bought a black Jeep Cherokee Sport. It wasn't too great on gas, but it was perfect for his hunting trips. He put winter tires on it and put his CD case that he'd manage to get out of his S-10 before Merle took it in the glove compartment. Paul had marveled at it when he'd shown it off and they took a short day trip to the forest for a bit of hiking.

 

The week before Christmas, Paul took a day to go shopping for something to get Daryl. The year they were together, Daryl hadn't wanted to celebrate Christmas because he'd never celebrated it before due to his home situation. He was particularly moody the week of Christmas and threw quite the fit when Paul asked him to go to Maggie's Christmas party. Christmas was Paul's favorite holiday and it hurt when Daryl wouldn't celebrate it with him. Paul hoped it would be different this Christmas. Judging by what Michonne had told him, Daryl was now very much for celebrating holidays with friends. He just had no idea what to get a man who had pretty much everything he wanted.

 

Daryl could easily buy himself a new leather jacket or new boots. Not that he would. Daryl always waited until his clothes or shoes were practically threadbare before buying new ones. Passing by a biker shop, Paul stopped and stared into the window. The biker could use a new helmet. Grinning, he went in and found the perfect helmet for his biker. Black with a white wolf howling on both side. Helmet bought, he quickly went home and found blank canvas. He pulled his hair back with a bandanna and sat on a stool with his brushes and paints on a table nearby and set to work.

 

 

Daryl was having a similar problem. He'd never truly bought a gift for Paul. He'd brought him home flowers and art supplies before, but never an actual gift. He let Glenn take care of the shop for a day and used his free time to shop around for a few gift ideas. He visited multiple art stores, but couldn't quite find what he was looking for. He did buy Paul some paints the artist said he was running low on and a couple books that he'd noticed Paul didn't have. He also found a nice pair of gloves and a crème colored scarf and added them to the pile of gifts.

 

He was just about to give up and head home when he passed some firewood outside a sporting goods store. An idea sparked in his mind and he purchased a few bundles and took them to his jeep. He went to the store and bought a few items, then went home to grab a few more things and headed out to his cabin. He put the perishables in the fridge and the canned goods in the cabinets. The logs went by the fireplace and the blankets on the couch. Satisfied everything was ready, he went over to Paul's apartment, heart racing and palms sweaty with nervousness. After taking a moment to gather his courage, he knocked on the door.

 

When Paul answered, he had some paint smears on his cheeks and forehead. His hair was held in place by a blue bandanna and he had on just a tank top and some sweatpants and his feet were bare. Daryl thought he never looked more beautiful. He smiled. “Daryl! Come on in. Oh, but don't look in the corner there.”

 

Daryl smiled and stepped in, licking his lips and keeping his eyes away from the corner. “What're you doing?” The door shut behind him and Paul passed him, carefully turning the easel around so Daryl couldn't see what he was painting.

 

“Just a little painting.” Paul smiled, walking back up to him. “What're you doing? Isn't the shop open today?”

 

“It is. Glenn's takin' care of it today so I can do my Christmas shopping.”

 

Paul smiled, picking up some dirty brushes to clean them off in his sink. “Make yourself comfortable. Want something to drink?”

 

Daryl nodded, taking his jacket and gloves off, setting them on the couch. “Did ya have a good day?”

 

The artist washed his hands and grabbed out two bottles of water, handing one to Daryl. “I did. I got most of my Christmas shopping done today, too. Just gotta finish this painting and buy a couple more things.” He leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Daryl play with the label on the water. “Daryl, are you alright?”

 

The mechanic licked his lips nervously. He set the bottle down and walked around to stand in front of Paul. Paul stared up at him, eyes bright and lips wet and a bit swollen form him chewing them in concentration. “Paul... would ya go out ta dinner wit me Saturday night?”

 

The artist blinked. “On Saturday? Sure. Will Rick and Michie be joining us again?”

 

“No. It'll jus be us.... on a date.”

 

Paul's eyes widened and his lips parted. “O-Oh.” His heart raced. He'd been waiting for Daryl to ask him out. Every time they were alone together, Daryl seemed like he wanted to, but he held back. He set his water down, hands shaking a bit. “Daryl-”

 

“Shit. Yer not ready, yet, are ya?” Daryl whispered, stepping back.

 

Paul reached out, gently taking hold of his shirt to stop him. “Daryl, wait. I am ready. I've been ready.” Daryl stopped, letting the artist pull him close again. “I've been waiting for you to ask me, to tell me you were ready. I was just so speechless when you finally did, my mind went blank.” He smiled, gently petting Daryl's shirt over his chest. “Saturday night, huh? Are we exchanging presents then, too?”

 

Daryl nodded. “If ya want.”

 

“I think my gift for you will be done by then.” He smiled, leaning up to kiss Daryl's cheek. “Staying for dinner?” He asked, knowing Daryl will say yes.

 

“Lemme think... eat with a very attractive artist who has a hold'a mah heart, 'r go back ta mah cold, lonely apartment 'n eat by mahself? Hm, tough decision.”

 

Paul laughed, wrapping his arms around Daryl's waist. “Daryl, just say yes.” He laid his head on Daryl's shoulder, inhaling the scent of his cologne and deodorant and smiling as the mechanic chuckled and ran his fingers through Paul's short hair, holding him close.

 

“S'jus fun ta tease ya. Gotta make up fer the years ya teased me.” He whispered, pecking the top of Paul's head.

 

“Shit, Daryl, you'll never catch up.” The artist laughed. He ran his hands up and down Daryl's clothed back. He'd missed hugging the mechanic, feeling his warmth and breathing in his scent. With how tight Daryl was holding him, the mechanic must have missed him as well.

 

“Missed ya..” Daryl whispered into his hair. “So much...”

 

Paul smiled tearfully, pressing closer and tighter to him. He clutched the back of Daryl's shirt and nuzzled into his shoulder. “I missed you, too, Daryl. I thought of you every day and dreamed about you every night. No one could ever replace you and no one ever will.”

 

Daryl inhaled shakily, pressing kiss after kiss into Paul's hair. “I love you...”

 

Paul closed his eyes against the tears. “Daryl... you're going to make me cry.”

 

The mechanic chuckled. “Yer tears are my sustenance.” He gently pushed away and reached up to wipe the tears away. “Go clean up... I'll make us some dinner.”

 

Paul nodded with a sniffle and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Daryl's lips before walking to his bathroom. He stepped in and shut the door, heart racing. A wide smile blossomed on his face and he reached up, covering his face with his hands. He felt like his heart would burst out of his chest at the happiness he felt. Saturday night... he simply couldn't wait.

 


	5. Ch. 5

 

 

Thursday night, Paul went through his closet to get an idea of what he wanted to wear for Saturday's date. Most of what he owned, Daryl had already seen and were so old they were falling apart at the seams. He sighed. It was time to go shopping. So, Friday after the shop closed, Paul went up and down Main Street trying to find the perfect outfit and wasn't satisfied with anything he found. So, he resorted to drastic matters. He called Tara. They met at the mall at 8 where they had a quick snack of cookies and then went into various shops. She made him try on a dark blue dress shirt and black vest and black skinny jeans.

 

“Skinny jeans, really?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “I don't want to crush my balls, he might want to play with them later.”

 

“Ugh... TMI, Paul.” She rolled her eyes. “They're not going to crush anything as long as you wear the proper size. Here, try these two.” She said and shoved two pairs at him.

 

He sighed and walked across the store and into a dressing room, locking the door behind him. The first pair was a bit tight, so he took them off and tried the second pair. They were comfortable around his hips and crotch, but tight on his legs. He turned his hips and smirked. They hugged and formed to his ass beautifully. Paired with the dress shirt and vest, Daryl wasn't going to be able to keep his hands to himself.

 

“Come out, Paul, let me see the outfit!” Tara said. When Paul stepped out, she gasped. “Shit, dude! If we weren't both gay, I'd be mounting you right here!”

 

Paul chuckled. “I think Daryl will be doing that as soon as he walks in the door.” He went back into the stall and changed back into his own clothes.

 

“So, gonna get them?” Tara asked.

 

“Yup.” Paul smirked and got in line to pay.

 

Tara stood next to him, fiddling with her phone. “Are you sure its a good idea?” She asked softly. “You were so heart broken last time. Can you survive a second heart break from him?”

 

Paul looked at her and smiled warmly. “He's different, Tara. Trust me. We've been friends for like two months now. If you'd spend time with him, you would see it. If I had any doubt we wouldn't make it this time, I wouldn't be going on a date with him.”

 

She sighed. “I know. I just worry. You're my best friend. I missed you while you were gone and I don't want you to leave again.”

 

He chuckled. “I won't be leaving again. I can't afford it, not until business at the store picks up, and I don't want to leave again. This town is my home. All my friends are here.” He paid for the clothes and they left the store.

 

“What're you guys gonna do after dinner?”

 

“I don't know. He's being secretive about it. I know we're exchanging presents, I just don't know where. We might go back to his place.” Paul smiled. “Wherever we go, I'll be fine with it cause I'll be with him.”

 

Tara smiled. “You're too cute, Paul. He's lucky to have you.”

 

The artist smiled. “I'm lucky to have him.”

 

 

Saturday night, he showered thoroughly (especially _there)._ He knows its the first date, but you never know what could happen. The sexual tension between them was so thick you could cut it with a knife. He trimmed his beard down and styled his hair, but didn't use too much gel. Daryl liked to pet his hair and Paul didn't want it to be sticky with gel and hairy spray. He got dressed and applied some aftershave. He was trying something new to see if Daryl liked it. It was a dark scent, but warm and soothing.

 

Right at 7, Daryl knocked on the door and Paul took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He went to the door and opened it, smiling warmly at the mechanic. Daryl was dressed in some new, dark jeans accompanied by a dark gray shirt and black jean jacket with the sleeves rolled up. His hair was styled handsomely and beard trimmed. He smirked when Daryl gave him a once over and blushed a bit.

 

“Hey, handsome.”

 

Daryl smiled. “Hey... ready ta go?”

 

Paul nodded and grabbed his jacket, keys and wallet. “Should I grab the presents?”

 

“Yeah. We'll put 'em in the back wit the others so we don't have ta backtrack.” He waited outside while Paul grabbed the three gifts and Daryl took them so he could lock the door. The presents were placed in the back of the jeep with three others and Paul smiled. They were so alike sometimes. He got into the passenger's seat and held Daryl's hand while he drove to the restaurant. “Do I get to know where we're going after dinner, yet?”

 

“Nope.” Daryl smirked.

 

Dinner was a lovely affair at a steak house. Daryl had obviously made reservations. The table was already set up on the back patio with a white and blue table cloth, a single lit candle, a single red rose atop the plates and a bucket of ice with Paul's favorite wine chilling in it. Paul swallowed thickly, picking up the rose. He'd never done this before. Their dates usually consisted of cheap restaurants and driving Daryl's motorcycle out to the lake or river. Not that they were bad. Daryl had always been sweet during them.

 

“Daryl... this is beautiful.” Paul breathed. He smirked, picking up the wine bottle. “Is this why you ordered wine that one time?”

 

Daryl smiled shyly. “Maybe..?

 

“How long have you been planning this?” He set the bottle back into the ice bucket and walked up to the mechanic.

 

He shrugged. “Jus bits 'n pieces 'ere and there. I had an idea what I wanted ta do fer ya, jus wasn't ready ta act on it, yet.”

 

Paul smiled, smelling the rose. “It's wonderful.” He whispered. “Shall we eat?”

 

Daryl nodded and they both sat down to look at the menus. They both had a steak dinner and then shared a molten chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream. Daryl only had two glasses of wine and then drank water the rest of dinner. He still needed to drive them out to the cabin. Paul had three glasses, however, and was looking very relaxed. He switched to water as they ate dessert. He didn't want to be drunk during their first date. After dinner, Daryl paid and they walked out to his jeep, hand in hand. Before Daryl could let him go, Paul hugged his waist, nuzzling his neck and sighing happily. Daryl chuckled, petting his hair and hugging his shoulders.

 

“That was wonderful, Daryl.” The artist whispered.

 

“Ain't over, yet.” He whispered back.

 

“I know, but my heart is so full of happiness, I feel like I'll burst if I don't hold you.”

 

Daryl smile and held him tighter. “Ya smell good. Tryin a new aftershave?”

 

“Yeah.” Paul smiled up at him. “Do you like it?”

 

The mechanic hummed, lowering his face to Paul's neck and taking a good, long sniff. He pressed his nose against Paul's skin, whiskers rubbing gently. Paul shivered, fingers gripping Daryl's jacket as he whimpered softly. After a moment, the mechanic leaned back and smirked. “Yeah, s'good. Somethin I could get used ta.”

 

Paul smiled and gently pushed him away. “I forgot how much of a cock tease you can be.”

 

“Ain't ever gonna change that. Ya like it too much.” Daryl chuckled as he got into the jeep.

 

The artist shook his head and got in as well. They held hands again and Daryl drove in the direction of the shop. For a moment, Paul thought they would be going back to Daryl's. Then he remembered the presents in the back and frowned. Were they going to Rick's- no, wait, they just passed it. He blinked, watching the shop pass by in the windshield.

 

“Where are we going?” He asked softly as they approached the city limits. Were they going to the lake? It was a bit cold for the lake, and it was probably iced over.

 

“You'll see.” Daryl rasped, thumb stroking over Paul's hand. “Jus relax, baby. You'll love it, I promise.”

 

Paul pursed his lips, but complied and relaxed back into the seat. The radio played classic rock softly through the speakers. Seemed Daryl still didn't like Christmas music. Paul smiled. That was alright, he wasn't too keen on most of it, either. They drove for about twenty minutes before Daryl turned down a dirt road. The artist blinked as they were soon surrounded by trees. Could Daryl be taking him to the cabin? He had never been allowed to the cabin.

 

Ten minutes later they were parked outside a log cabin. The lights were on and the fireplace was already lit and Paul inhaled the wonderful scent of burning wood deeply. He'd always loved the smell of a fireplace. His heart pounded as they carried their presents inside. Daryl set his presents under a small, decorated Christmas tree in the corner and motioned for Paul to do the same. The entire cabin wasn't decorated, but the Christmas tree and the wreath above the fireplace was enough to make Paul's heart swell with warmth for the mechanic.

 

“I can't believe you brought me here.” He whispered, taking his jacket and gloves off. Daryl smiled and took the from him, hanging the jacket on a hook next to his own and placing their gloves on a table. “You even decorated a tree.”

 

“Well, ya always talked about bein in a cabin in front of a fireplace during the winter, specifically during Christmas.” Daryl whispered back, taking his shoes off by the door. “Have a seat, I'll get us somethin ta drink.”

 

Paul took his shoes as well before walking over to the fireplace, there were pillows and blankets piled invitingly and he sat down. Daryl soon joined him with two mugs of hot chocolate. Paul smiled, taking one. “How long has the fireplace been lit?”

 

“Not long. I asked Rick ta come out here 'n light it fer us. He left five minutes 'fore we got 'ere.” Daryl took a sip of the hot chocolate.

 

“Daryl... I-I don't know what to say. I'm speechless. You put so much thought into this.” Paul leaned against him, head on Daryl's shoulder, smiling as his hand went immediately to his hair.

 

“Grow yer hair back out 'n we'll be even.”

 

The artist chuckled. “I will, don't worry.”

 

They sat in comfortable silence, Paul's legs folded to the side and Daryl with on knee against his chest and the other folded under it, drinking their cocoa and watching the fire. They were so close Paul could feel the heat of Daryl's body against him and smell his cologne mixed with his natural scent. He set his mug aside, away from the blankets and pillows, and leaned heavier against Daryl, pressing his nose to the man's neck. He kept one hand on the floor behind Daryl, holding himself up, while the other slid up that broad torso affectionately. Daryl leaned away from him briefly to set his own mug aside; and then, an arm was wrapping around his shoulders to pull him to the mechanic's chest.

 

Paul smiled, eyes closed as he wrapped his arm around Daryl's waist. His fingers played with the buttons of Daryl's shirt, not intending to undo them, just to distract himself from the swell of emotions he felt for the man holding him. As he pressed his fingers into the shirt, he felt a hard bump like a chain underneath. He left his head a bit, peeking into the collar of the shirt and spotting the silver chain hanging from Daryl's neck. Daryl had never been one to wear jewelry. The only thing he'd ever seen Daryl wear in way of an accessory was a chain that connected his wallet to his jeans. Paul had loved that chain, using it to draw Daryl closer to him or just looking at it when it rested against Daryl's ass.

 

Daryl shifted suddenly, gently laying Paul down on his back and leaning over the artist. He kept an arm under Paul's neck, pillowing his head to protect it from the hard floor under the blanket while his other hand stroked up the artist's chest to his neck. Paul smiled up at him, one hand under Daryl to hold his shoulder as the other rested on his hip. He closed his eyes, pressing his cheek into Daryl's warm hand. He felt Daryl leaning closer and opened his eyes again, heart racing. Their lips touched chastely, just a brief touch. Daryl's lips were dry, but soft, just as Paul remembered them. He sighed softly, leaning up as Daryl leaned away. The mechanic chuckled softly at him.

 

“Daryl...”

 

“Hm?” Daryl smirked down at him.

 

“You better kiss me again...” Paul whispered, laying his head back on the man's arm.

 

“Yeah? If I don't?”

 

“I'll have to have my wicked way with you.”

 

“Would that be a bad thang?”

 

Paul whimpered, gripping Daryl's shirt and trying to drag him closer. “Daryl... please... I want you.”

 

The mechanic smiled softly and leaned down, kissing the artist warmly, moving their lips together slowly, lovingly. His hand stroked Paul's cheek and down to his neck, rubbing softly. Paul moaned, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, licking across Daryl's lips and pushing in when those lips parted. Daryl moaned against his lips, pressing closer against him and sliding his hand down Paul's chest. He shivered as the artist's hand slid up to unbutton his shirt.

 

When the cool chain brushed against his knuckle, Paul pulled away from the arousing kiss and looked down at it. “What's this?” He panted and reached to tug the chain out of Daryl's shirt.

 

Daryl's hand shot up to grasp his wrist gently. “Don't...”

 

The artist blinked up at him, a bit shocked from the shaky rasp. “Daryl-”

 

“I ain't ready fer ya ta see it.”

 

“Well, what is it?” Paul frowned, but released the chain from his finger and lowered his hand.

 

Daryl sat up. “Somethin I cherish over everythang else I own. I'll show it ta ya someday.” He whispered and stood, walking over to their jackets.

 

Paul sat up and watched him. The mechanic's back was to him, so he couldn't see what was on the chain when Daryl removed it from his neck and put it in the inner pocket of his leather jacket. He pursed his lips, very curious now. As Daryl walked back over, he finished unbuttoning his shirt and slid it off his shoulder and arms. Paul's mouth went dry, eyes drifting over the expanse of skin lightly dusted in hair and pebbled nipples, hard from the chill of the air. As soon as his hands touched that skin, he forgot all about the chain.

 

Later that night, basking in the afterglow of orgasm, Paul nuzzled Daryl's neck. They hadn't gone all the way, but he was alright with that. They would get there when they were ready. His hand stroked over Daryl's bare chest, feeling the hairs on his fingers and his calm breathing. Daryl's fingers lightly brushed up and down his back. Their legs were tangled in the blankets covering their lower bodies. It was too hot to be under them, but too cold to be completely bare to the air. He smiled and moaned softly as Daryl kissed his hair. He looked up at him.

 

“Wanna open presents?” He whispered.

 

Daryl smiled and nodded. “Sure.” He rasped and they sat up slowly. He walked over to the tree, bare naked. It took him a couple trips, but he brought their presents over to the fire and sat back down. “How ya wanna do this?'

 

“Well, we could take turns. You open one, then I'll open one, so on and so forth.” Paul smiled. Daryl nodded and Paul watched as he picked up the decent sized box and opened it slowly. When he pulled out the helmet and the fingerless, leather gloves, he grinned widely. “I noticed your other one was getting old. The paint was chipping and the inside was starting to crack.”

 

“Thanks, Paul...” He whispered, running his hand over the howling wolf.

 

He set it aside with the gloves after a moment and Paul picked up his first present. He ripped at the wrapping paper and opened the box. He marveled at the scarf and gloves laying inside. He gently picked them up, fingering the cashmere and fine leather gloves.

 

“They're beautiful, Daryl.” He smiled before putting them back in the box carefully and closing it. “Okay, open that one.” He was eager to see Daryl's reaction to the painting.

 

Daryl raised an amused eyebrow at him, but complied and picked up the present he pointed to. He carefully took the wrapping paper off. His eyes widened, studying the painting. It was a beautiful winter forest, a few deer in the background and a cabin off to the side, the light in the window on and a bit of smoke coming up from the chimney. A river was ice over behind it, sparkling with the light of the moon above. “Holy shit, Paul... this's... this's amazin.”

 

Paul blushed. “I messed up on the moon-”

 

“Shit, I don't care... I love it. This's goin in mah office.” He stood up and walked over to the table to see it down so it was safe from any harm. Paul blushed more and smiled, waiting for him to come back. He wasn't expecting Daryl to kiss him deeply. “Thank ya... I love it.”

 

The artist smiled, kissing him softly. “I'm glad.” Daryl sat back and Paul opened up his next present. In the box was two books that he didn't have and the paints that he loved. “Thank you, Daryl. I've been searching for these books everywhere.” He started going on about how special the edition is and all Daryl could do was listen and watch him, heart swelling with emotion for this beautiful man across from him.

 

 

They spent Saturday night and most of Sunday in the cabin. Paul didn't mention the chain again, even after he watched Daryl's back as the mechanic put it back on as they were leaving. Daryl dropped him off at home, kissing him deeply and whispering that he'd miss him. Paul didn't want to leave his side. He wanted to stay in the jeep, kissing and whispering to each other, petting his cheek and neck. After about five minutes of kissing and loving on each other, Paul stepped out of the jeep with his presents and went into his apartment. When he got inside and set the presents on the table, he pulling out his phone and chuckled at the five missed calls and ten new messages from Tara; and then, three missed calls and five new messages from Maggie, both asking him how the date went, what did he get for Christmas from Daryl and to call them already, dammit.

 

He took his new scarf off, hanging it carefully and lovingly on a hanger with his jacket and then pressed the call button next to Tara's name. She answered by the second ring.

 

“Dude, I've been trying to get a hold of you for two days! How'd your date go?!”

 

“Sorry, Tara.” Paul chuckled, walking to his kitchen to grab a bottle of water. “I guess there's no reception where we went.” He'd always been closer to Tara than he had been the others. He loved his friends, but he and Tara had been friends since high school and bonded over ex-lovers and margaritas through the years.

 

“Where'd ya'll go? C'mon, dude! Spill!”

 

He laughed at her excited tone. “Oh, it was amazing, Tara! Nothing like what we ever used to do! He showed up on time, dressed so handsomely and we went to dinner at Aaron's Steakhouse, you know that one on King's Boulevard.”

 

“No way!”

 

“Yes! We had a table on the back covered patio that sits over the garden, there was a candle lit, my favorite wine chilling and a single red rose. You should've seen it, Tara... wait! I have a picture!” They'd taken a picture together before they'd left. They were standing against the balcony railing with the moon behind them, smiling and hugging so close and tight.

 

“Oh, Paul, that's beautiful!” Tara said when she received the picture. “He looks so handsome, and truly happy.”

 

Paul smiled, flopping down on his back on the bed. While Maggie had helped him understand Daryl better, Tara had been there for him whenever they had a fight and when he'd left Daryl.

 

“ So, what did ya'll do after dinner? Did you open presents?”

 

“You'll never believe where he took me, Tara.”

 

“Oh my God! Where?”

 

“His cabin...”

 

“His cabin..? The one outside of town?”

 

“Yeah...” Paul sighed, feeling a bit aroused just at the memory of the wonderful time they'd had in front of the fire. Daryl going down on him, and then down lower. Their sex had always been rough before, very little foreplay, always getting right to the fucking. Last night, Daryl had taken his time, bringing Paul to the edge and then bringing him back down only to take him to the edge again. Paul had never been so loud before in his sex life. Screaming, begging and writhing on those blankets, scratching at Daryl's back and bucking into his mouth. Paul licked his lips. He could still taste Daryl's cum on them.

 

“D-Did he do anything... to you?”

 

“Oh, Tara... he did so many things to me.”

 

“Oh! Gross! TMI, Paul! TMI!”

 

The artists laughed. “You said to spill! I'm spilling, Tara.” She laughed with him.

 

“What did he get you for Christmas?” She asked.

 

The rest of their conversation was spent talking about the presents they got and how Tara's training was going. Paul told her about his shop and how business was finally picking up. He considered hiring a part-time worker. Maggie was helpful, but she'd be returning to her own work soon once the doctor released her from bed-rest. After talking with her for about thirty minutes, he hung up and closed his eyes. He was tired. They'd stayed up most of the night, talking and cuddling, loving on each other. He thought he might take a nap and then do a little work out session and make some dinner.

 


	6. Ch. 6

 

 

The next night, Paul invited Daryl over to his apartment for dinner. They cooked spaghetti together and drank wine with it. After dishes were cleaned, they had a snack of fruit and cheese. Daryl stood behind him as he took a knife to an apple, slicing it carefully. He chuckled as Daryl's kissed and nipped his neck.

 

“Daryl Dixon, if I cut my finger, I'm going to ban you from the kitchen.” He said, even as he tilted his head.

 

“Shit, the day a ninja like ya cuts 'imself wit a damn knife, I know Hell's finally taken over the Earth.” Daryl smirked and stepped away to refill their glasses.

 

Paul smiled and put the knife in the sink and went to pick up the tray of fruit and cheese. “The day Hell takes over the Earth, you'll probably be the Devil's right hand man.”

 

Daryl chuckled and walked over to him after setting their glasses on the table in front of the couch. He pinned him to the island, leaning down to kiss him. “Nah... I'mma over throw the devil 'n make ya my Queen.” He picked up a grape.

 

“Oh really? Queen?” The artist smirked.

 

“Yup.” Daryl rasped, feeding the grape to Paul. “My ninja queen who protects me.”

 

Paul smiled, kissing Daryl softly after swallowing the grape. They kissed deeply, Daryl's hands on Paul's hips and the artist's hands in his hair, petting his neck and up into the soft strands. A knock on the door separated them. Paul nipped his lips. “Get that?”

 

“Yeah.” Daryl nipped back before releasing him and going over to the door.

 

Paul picked the tray up and carried it to the table and set it down. He picked up his wine and took a sip.

 

“Daryl..?”

 

The artist tensed at the voice. 'Shit... Alex, what the fuck?' He thought and quickly walked over to the door.

 

Alex stared in shock at the mechanic. “W-What're you doing here?”

 

Daryl raised an eyebrow at him, leaning on the door carefully. “I could ask ya the same thang.”

 

“I'd... heard Paul moved back.” He relaxed as the artist walked over.

 

“Alex... hi.” Paul smiled politely. “Can I help you?”

 

“I wanted to... come see how you were.”

 

“I'm doing well, thank you.” The artist put a hand on the small of Daryl's back and was surprised to find the mechanic completely relaxed still. He wasn't tense or shaking with anger. “How are you?”

 

“I'm... I'm good. I was going to invite you to dinner.”

 

“We already ate.” Daryl said. “We're bout ta sit down 'n watch a movie.”

 

“Oh... Paul... I-I thought you two broke up.”

 

Paul nodded, sipping his wine. “We did. We got back together a week ago.”

 

“He was abusing you! How could you get back with a monster like him?” Alex yelled, fists clenched.

 

Daryl did tense at that. Paul sighed and closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable outburst. He felt a hand in his hair and lips against his temple.

 

“I'mma go sit down. Ya got this?” Daryl whispered in his ear.

 

Paul turned his head to look at him. “... Yeah. I'll set him straight.” The mechanic nodded and walked away, going to sit on the couch. Even Alex seemed shocked. Paul turned back to him and glared. “Let's get one thing straight. Daryl never laid a hand on me! I don't know where you got the idea that he would ever even think to hurt me! Yes, he did have a lot of anger and he was hostile, but that's changed. He's made himself better. He loves me, and I love him! What you and I had is over Alex. It's been over for six years. It was over before it started. If you keep coming around here, or around my shop, I will report you for harassment and stalking. Good-bye.” He shut the door and locked it.

 

Daryl was still sitting on the couch, rubbing his face. Paul sighed and walked over to him. He set his glass down and gently pushed Daryl to sit against the back and climbed into his lap. Daryl's hands went to his hips to rub lovingly.

 

“Are you okay?” Paul whispered, petting his neck.

 

“Yeah... no.” The mechanic paused, collecting his thoughts. “People seriously thought I's abusin ya back then?”

 

“Daryl, it doesn't matter what they thought. You and I both know you never would've hit me. Our close friends know you weren't and never would've. Yes, you had a lot of anger built up inside you and didn't know how to work through it, but you were not and never will be an abuser. Baby, you've come so far and changed so much. You're healthy, you're happy, you have a sweet little family that loves you and friends that care deeply about you. Alex never tried to get to know you.”

 

“Didn't help I's an ass ta 'im.”

 

“It wouldn't have mattered if you weren't. He wouldn't have bothered. He was jealous because I loved you, he's jealous because I still love you and he'll never have me. Don't let what he says bother you. He's saying it out of anger. Okay?” He brushed the bangs out of Daryl's eyes and smiled. Daryl nodded and he leaned down to kiss him. They kissed softly for a moment, pressing close together. “I love you, Daryl... so much. You've become the man I always knew you could be, and so much more. You're so beautiful, kind, gentle, charming... you care so much, even if it means you'll get hurt in the end. I'm so lucky to have you.”

 

Daryl flushed under the praise. “Nah... 'm the lucky one. You coulda said no, coulda protected yerself from me, but ya gave me a second chance, 'n 'm speechless every time ya smile at me, every time ya kiss me and look'it me wit them blue eyes filled wit such love.”

 

Paul smiled. “We're just two big saps, aren't we?”

 

The mechanic chuckled. “Yeah, but we're each others saps.” Paul laughed and hugged the man to his chest.

 

 

Christmas came and went and the new year started. Daryl and Paul spent as much time as they could together, which wasn't always enough with them both being business owners. So when Daryl showed up at Paul's shop at noon one day, the artist was a bit shocked. Maggie smiled up at him as the mechanic entered. It was her last day to help Paul before the new part-timer started and she returned to her own job.

 

“Hey, Daryl, how's it going?” Maggie asked, munching on some apple slices.

 

“Good... is Paul here?” Daryl asked, hands in his jacket pockets.

 

“I'm coming!” Paul came in from the back and smiled. “Hey, baby.” He smiled, stepping up and kissing Daryl softly. “What're you doing here?”

 

“Wanted ta see if ya could leave the shop fer a bit. Wanna take ya somewhere.” Daryl whispered, hands going to Paul's hips.

 

Paul blinked. “I suppose.” He looked at Maggie. “Think you could watch the shop for a bit?”

 

She nodded, smiling at how loving they were to each other. “Sure. I don't mind.”

 

“If it gets to be too much, just give me a call.” Paul said, grabbing his jacket from behind the counter. He followed Daryl out of the shop and to the man's jeep and got in. “So, where are we going?”

 

“Want ya ta meet someone.”

 

Paul blinked at the tiny hint. “Okay...” He said slowly. “Who am I meeting?”

 

The mechanic smiled and took his hand. “Someone special.” He didn't give any other hints, just drove to a cluster of medical buildings. Paul blinked, catching the name of the building they parked in front of. 'Professional Counseling and Therapy.' “C'mon. S'almost time fer mah appointment.” Daryl said as he got out.

 

Paul slowly followed suit. “Daryl, are you sure I should be here?”

 

“She said I could bring ya when I's ready. 'm ready.” Daryl replied and took his hand, leading him into the office and checked in at the front desk.

 

He sat next to the mechanic a bit nervously. Daryl held his hand tightly. He wasn't tense or nervous, so Paul relaxed after a moment. Five minutes later, a woman in a suit skirt and jacket walked over to them. Her green eyes smiled more when she saw Paul next to Daryl.

 

“Daryl, are you ready?”

 

“Yeah.” The mechanic rasped and stood. “C'mon, babe.” Paul stood and they followed her into an office with a very comfy looking couch. Daryl sat down, pulling Paul down with him.

 

The woman sat in a chair with a notepad and pen. “Who's your friend, Daryl?” She asked, reaching down to get her glasses from the table.

 

“Paul Rovia.”

 

Her eyes shot up at his name and Paul knew he'd been the topic of many conversations between them. He swallowed thickly and looked down, holding Daryl's hand tightly.

 

“I see a lot has happened since our last session.” She smiled, putting the glasses on and leaning back, crossing one leg over the other. “I was worried when you called to make an appointment.”

 

“Nah. Things 'r goin great.” He started telling her about meeting Carl and, therefore, meeting Rick and the night they spent together; and then, Rick telling him he wasn't interested in him romantically. He told her about Paul showing up and the beginning of their tentative friendship and how it grew stronger the more they saw each other. She asked questions here and there, but mostly just let him talk. She was studying Paul more than Daryl, smiling when Daryl told her about their date and then finishing with Alex showing up and how he'd let Paul handle it.

 

“That's quite the change in your life, Daryl, and you seem to be handling it very well.” She paused, looking up from her notepad. “Have you had any hallucinations?” She asked and Paul tensed.

 

“Nah. Not since the last one I told ya 'bout two years ago.”

 

She nodded. “Good. Paul, judging by how tense you look, you knew about his hallucinations.”

 

The artist nodded. “I've had to talk him out of one too many.” He glance at Daryl. “I've wanted to ask you about them, but... I wasn't sure how you would react.”

 

“Well, I just have to say that it is an honor to meet you, Paul. The way Daryl has talked about you... not many men talk about their lovers like that, gay or straight. His love for you runs deep. Deep enough to cut through all the anger and insecurities he may feel and to change him drastically.” Dr. Payne smiled. “I have never seen one person have such a positive drastic effect on another.”

 

Paul blushed and used his other hand to pet Daryl's holding his. “The feeling is mutual.” He whispered, smiling at Daryl. He was quiet the rest of the session, letting Daryl and his therapist talk about his time up in the woods. She asked him a couple questions and he answered them as best he could and then they debated his answer.

 

Before they left, she asked him one last question. “Have you told him yet?”

 

Daryl's hand tensed in his for the first time and Paul looked up at him. “Told me what?”

 

“Nah, I haven't. Ain't ready.”

 

“Can you tell me why?” Dr. Payne asked.

 

“I... I'm havin... I'm insecure that maybe... he wouldn't have wanted ta... not back then 'n not now.” Daryl whispered.

 

“Wanted to what?” Paul whispered, a bit worried now. His question was ignored as Dr. Rayne told Daryl to think about why he gave that answer. She stood up and Daryl hugged her. She patted his back and showed them back to the lobby where Daryl paid for the appointment.

 

After the session, Daryl drove him back to the shop and parked in front. Paul had been quiet the entire ride and Daryl worried a little that maybe he shouldn't have brought him just yet. After a minute in silence in front of the shop, the mechanic looked at his artist.

 

“Thanks fer comin wit me.” Daryl whispered.

 

Paul was quiet a moment longer, petting Daryl's hand again. “Daryl... what was she talking about?”

 

The mechanic sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against his seat's head rest. “Paul...” He'd been afraid Paul would fixate on that.

 

“Daryl, I love you. Whatever it is that you wanted to tell me or wanted me to do, you don't have to be worried. Even if I say no, it won't mean I don't love you. You know I'm open to pretty much anything... except for threesomes. I don't share.” Paul smiled, teasingly. “And neither do you.”

 

Daryl was silent, seeming to be contemplating to himself whatever it was that he'd never told Paul about. Finally, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes to look at the artist. “Come over fer dinner tanight 'n... I'll try... ta tell ya.”

 

“Don't force yourself. If you're not ready then I can wait.” Paul whispered, leaning over to kiss him. “See you tonight?”

 

“Yeah.” Daryl rasped, returning the kiss softly.

 

Paul got out of the jeep and walked back into his store, smiling at Maggie. “How'd it go? Didn't get too busy?”

 

“No.” She smiled, munching on some chocolate pretzels now. “Where'd ya'll go? If ya'll went to lunch and didn't offer me anything, I'm gonna be mad.”

 

Paul chuckled, taking his jacket off and stashing it under the counter. “We didn't go to lunch. He... took me to meet his therapist.”

 

Maggie's eyes widened. “What?”

 

“Yeah. He took me to meet the lady who's helped him turn his life around and come to terms with himself.” Paul sat down on the second stool. “This lady is amazing, Maggie. She could see how tense and nervous I was and helped me relax with just a few words. The way she reads Daryl... I could never even dream of being able to read him as well as she can.”

 

“Well, she is trained to do it, not to mention she's been counseling him for years.” Maggie smiled. “You guys are so cute.” She giggled.

 

 

Later that night, Paul showed up at Daryl's apartment after taking a quick shower and picking up a single red rose. He used his key to let himself in and smiled when he saw Daryl setting the table.

 

“Hey...” The mechanic rasped, standing straight from lighting a candle.

 

“Hey yourself, handsome.” Paul smiled, walking over and kissing him. He smiled when he pulled back, teasing Daryl's lips with the roses petals.

 

The mechanic chuckled and took the rose from him. “Thanks...”

 

Paul just kissed him again and stepped back so Daryl could get a vase from under the sink. He spotted the black roses on the counter and frowned. “More flowers from your secret admirer?”

 

“Yeah. Gonna give 'em ta Rick tomorrow so he can see about getting some fingerprints 'r some shit.” Daryl replied, putting the rose in a vase with water. He walked over to the table, putting the rose in the middle by the candle, and then hugged Paul. “Hey... it'll be fine. I'm takin extra precautions.”

 

Paul smiled, hugging his shoulders. “Good. I don't want to lose you.”

 

“Can't lose me... 'm glued ta ya... you'll never get rid'a me.”

 

The artist laughed. “Well, shit, I'm doomed.”

 

Daryl chuckled and kissed him. “Let's eat... didn't slave over a hot stove jus fer it ta get cold.”

 

Paul nipped his lips. He knew Daryl was just teasing him. The mechanic loved cooking just as much as he himself did. He released him after a moment and they sat down to eat. They ate Daryl's delicious dinner before moving to the couch. The TV was on, but they barely paid attention to it. They kissed and whispered sweet nothings to each other. When the kissing got frantic and passionate, Paul crawled into Daryl's lap, petting the back of his neck with one hand and the other going for the buttons of Daryl's shirt. He could feel the chain underneath and expected Daryl to reach up and stopped his hand. Half way down, Daryl still hadn't stopped him, so he pulled back from the kiss.

 

“... Can I?” Paul whispered.

 

Daryl hesitated, panting and flushed from kissing, his hands on Paul's hips, slowly sliding under the artist's shirt. “... Yeah.” He whispered finally.

 

Paul waited a moment, then reached his other hand down to finish unbuttoning and then parting the shirt. He stared at the chain, eyes following the links down Daryl's sternum and resting on the golden wedding band. He grinned a bit, reaching to finger the ring and bringing it up to get a closer look. “New fashion trend?” He teased, and faltered when he saw the inscription inside.

 

Paul and Daryl Rovia Forever

 

Paul's throat closed up. “Daryl... what is this?”

 

Daryl shifted a bit, biting back a groan when their cocks rubbed against each other. “S'a weddin ring.”

 

“I can see that.”

 

“Was... supposed... ta be yer weddin ring.”

 

Paul swallowed thickly at the soft admission. He unclasped the chain and slid the ring off of it. He let the chain fall to the couch and stood off Daryl's lap. “M-Mine..?” He looked away from the ring and up at the man before him. He felt a rush of arousal at the sight of the mechanic sitting there, shirt unbuttoned, hair a mess from his hands and legs slightly parted with a tent in his jeans.

 

Daryl sighed and leaned forward, reaching up to take the ring from him. He leaned forward on his knees, staring down at the ring mournfully. “I's gonna propose ta ya durin our anniversary date, but... ya left the day b'fore.”

 

Paul teared up, heart aching at the words. “Daryl... fuck, baby, if I'd known, I never would've-”

 

“Nah... 'm glad ya did. I's a terrible boyfriend... would'a made an even worse husband. I loved ya, love ya even more now, but... I pushed ya 'way. I don't blame ya fer leavin. I's mad at first, didn't understand why til two weeks later. I's a selfish, possessive, insecure 'n angry asshole, jus like mah brotha... 'n those rumors bout me abusin ya, they pro'bly weren't wrong.”

 

“Daryl, we've been over this. You never would've hit me!”

 

The mechanic sighed and leaned back against the couch, holding the ring in his hand. “Paul... I had a'lota anger and no way ta release them. I drank a lot, smoked way too much 'n didn't know how ta be a good man. I can't honestly say I would'nt've eventually done somethin I would've regretted. Hell, I did do somethin I regretted. I ran ya off... the only good thing in mah life aside from the shop.”

 

Paul knelt in front of him, hands on the mechanic's knees. “Daryl, we both did things we regret now. We both made mistakes. I wasn't the best boyfriend, either. I wasn't always there for you when you needed me. I should've been more firm with those men that kept coming by, but I enjoyed seeing you so jealous and possessive, even if it caused you pain. I'm sorry, baby. I caused you so much heart ache and anger. I only added to your stress.” Paul teared up, staring at the ring in Daryl's hand.

 

Daryl reached down and pulled him into his lap, hugging him tightly. “We're both better now, babe. We've worked hard ta make ourselves better. We got our second chance. We can both work even harder ta make it work, 'n I want it too. I want it ta be better this time. I want us ta get ta that point where we're ready ta get married 'n buy a house 'n have kids.” Paul nodded and sniffled against his neck. “We're still gonna make mistakes 'n piss each other off, but we'll learn from 'em.”

 

Paul slowly took the ring from him. “Are you gonna hold onto it? Try to propose again in a year or two?”

 

“Nah. This ring is cursed now. It'll only cause bad luck.” Paul snorted at the man's superstition. “'Sides, s'yer turn ta buy the rings 'n plan a romantic proposal. I want the whole shebang, Paul. Romantic dinner, candlelight, violin playin in the background and it better be Def Leppard, jus' sayin.”

 

Paul laughed, laying his forehead against Daryl's shoulder. “Are you serious?”

 

“Yup. If it ain't how I envision, 'm gonna say no.” Daryl knew, though, that Paul could propose in the middle of sex in the forest by the river and he would say yes.

 

The artist just kissed him softly, knowing just as well that Daryl would say yes no matter how he proposed. “So... what will you do with it?”

 

“I dunno... might sell 'em or somethin.” Daryl looked down at the ring in his hand.

 

“Them..?”

 

“Yeah. I bought a set.”

 

“Where's your's?”

 

“In mah dresser in it's box.” The mechanic picked the chain up and put the ring back on it and returned it to its place around his neck.

 

“Can I have it?” Paul asked nervously.

 

Daryl raised an eyebrow at him. “Why..?”

 

“... They weren't all bad times, Daryl. And they're not cursed.” He paused, fingers playing with the hairs on Daryl's chest. “You wear mine... I wanna where your's. They could be a promise to each other... to be better to each other and support each other more. When I buy rings and propose, we'll put these up in a jewelry box or something.”

 

Daryl stared down at him. “... A'ight.” He watched Paul fiddle with the ring on his neck, eyes warm and affectionate. “Lemme go get it.” Paul shifted out of his lap to sit on the couch and watched Daryl walk over to the dresser and open the top draw. He moved some clothes aside before pulling out a red velvet box and bring it over. The mechanic sat back down next to him and opened the box. Paul slowly took the box and stared at the ring inside. “I ain't got another chain.”

 

“It's fine, I've got a couple at home.” Paul whispered, taking the ring out of the box. He chuckled, rolling it around in his fingers. “It's so big.”

 

“It ain't changed since ya last saw it, Paul. Still the same size.”

 

Paul looked at him in confusion for a moment, then his lips parted. “Daryl!” He laughed, smacking the man's thigh. “You pervert!” The mechanic just laughed, leaning in to kiss the other man. He curled into Daryl's chest, staring down at the large ring in his hand. Daryl's fingers stroked over his shoulder and up into his hair. The ring didn't fit any of his fingers, it was too big and it made him laugh. He'd always known Daryl had big hands, but seeing a ring envelope his fingers brought him so happiness.

 

“Yer weird...” Daryl mumbled into his hair, watching him.

 

“You love me.” Paul smiled, putting the ring into his jeans pocket.

 

“Yeah... I do.” He held the artist closer, closing his eyes and sighing in contentment.

 


	7. Ch. 7

 

 

A week after telling Paul about the ring, Daryl was on cloud nine. He had lunch with Rick just about every day, usually either at Alexandria Cafe or up in his studio, and then dinner with Paul at his place. Daryl usually stayed the night and came home early in the morning to change and open the shop. He was almost considering renting or buying a house with Paul, but that was way too soon. They were still reacquainting themselves and their new relationship. Plus, the lease of Paul's apartment wouldn't be up for another eight months.

 

Monday morning, after spending the entire weekend at Paul's apartment, Daryl went up the steps to his studio to change real quick. As he pulled out his keys, he wondered if Paul wouldn't mind him leaving some clothes there so he wouldn't have to hurry so much to open the shop. His foot landed on the last step and his eyes were met with a second vase of black roses and a small box wrapped in black paper. He stopped and stared at them. This was a new development.

 

Frowning, he pulled his phone out and called Rick.

 

“Mornin, Daryl...” The sheriff's sleepy voice answered.

 

“Rick... 'fore ya head inta work can ya come over?”

 

“Sure, but what for?”

 

“My little stalker left me a present.”

 

Rick was instantly awake and sitting up in bed, disturbing Michonne. “What?”

 

“Yeah. More black roses 'n a little box wrapped in black paper.” Daryl started back down the stairs, not wanting anywhere near the door. He didn't know if anyone was waiting on the other side.

 

“I'll be right there. Don't touch anything.” Rick hung up immediately. “Sorry, baby, Daryl needs me.”

 

Michonne smiled sleepily. “Should I ever be worried about you two developing a secret affair?”

 

Rick chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Maybe.” He winked and climbed out of bed. He got dressed and brushed his teeth, and was out the door in five minutes.

 

Daryl was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, talking to Glenn and asking him to open the shop while he took care of some things. He hung up as the sheriff approached. “Sorry, Rick.”

 

“Daryl, you don't need to apologize. I don't want anything to happen to you, so I'm glad you called.” The sheriff pulled out his phone and walked up the steps. He took a couple pictures and then pulled a glove on the very carefully open the gift tag. “Did you read this?” He asked the mechanic behind him.

 

“Nah, wasn't gonna touch that shit. Don't want my hand to explode.”

 

Rick frowned. “It says 'From an Old Friend. I want that date.' Do you know who it's talking about?”

 

Daryl pursed his lips and shook his head. “Nah.”

 

“Did you reject anyone's affections before you got that first vase of roses?” Rick stood up and took the disposable glove off.

 

“Shit, Rick... I work in a very busy auto shop. I reject a lot of affections 'n see so many faces I can never keep track.”

 

“You honestly cannot remember anythang specific about anyone? Did anyone get unusually aggressive? Or continue to come back and ask again?”

 

Daryl sighed, taking off his glove and rubbing his face. “No, Rick... thangs have been goin so good wit Paul that all I can think 'bout is 'im.”

 

Rick smiled. “Really? That good, huh? I noticed your jeep wasn't here at all this last weekend...”

 

The mechanic blushed, hiding a silly grin behind his hand. “Was at Paul's all weekend.”

 

The sheriff nodded. “Alright... well, I'm going to call Tara and have her bring some evidence bags. We'll get these to the station and x-ray this box, make sure there's nothing explosive in it before we open it and see what's inside.”

 

Daryl nodded. “Great. Thanks, Rick.”

 

“Anythang for you, brother.”

 

They shook hands and then hugged before Rick called Tara, telling her to bring some evidence bags. The cop showed up in no time and they bagged the flowers and box. Rick took Daryl's keys, telling the mechanic to stay back while he and Tara checked the apartment for intruders or poisons. It took nearly an hour before Daryl was able to get into his home and change. He got into the shop and began helping with the morning rush and at lunch, he and Rick went to Alexandria Cafe.

 

“What'd ya'll find?” He asked as they ate.

 

Rick set down his fork and took a drink of his tea. “We found a key and a heart locket.”

 

Daryl raised an eyebrow. “A key 'n a heart locket?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

The mechanic slowly set his fork down. “What's the key go to?”

 

“From a dorm room to a college in Atlanta, Georgia.” Rick pushed his finished plate aside and placed a few pictures on the table. He noticed Daryl's eyes immediately went to the heart locket and teared up. “Daryl... I think you might know who your stalker is.”

 

“... Yeah... me too.”

 

“What's the name?”

 

“Philip Blake... he was my stalker in college.” Daryl sighed and leaned back in his seat, staring at the picture of the locket. “The locket was mah mother's. It was the only thang ta survive the fire.... cause I'd had it wit me. I never got it back from 'im... the cop said Blake had lost it.”

 

Rick nodded. “We can give it back... after the investigation.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

After lunch they both returned to work. Daryl's mind lingering on the picture of the locket. His nerves were wrecked, knowing his every moved was being watched. His heart clenched. Paul's every move was probably being watched, too. He stood up and pulled out his phone and called the artist. Paul answered after the second ring.

 

“Hey, baby! What're you doing?”

 

The mechanic sighed in relieve at Paul's happy voice. “Nothin, I jus... I miss ya.” The soft chuckle in his ear relaxed him. “How's work?”

 

“Going good. Just had a really sweet man come in and buy some clay. I was drawing you at the counter and he asked who I was drawing. When I told him my boyfriend, he got this teary look in his eyes and started talking about 'the one that got away.' I told him he wanted I could draw a picture for him and he said he'd be back by later.”

 

Daryl tensed. “What did this man look like?”

 

Paul seemed to hesitate. “Um... a bit older, kind of rugged looking, dark hair and green eyes, had an air of authority about him.”

 

“He give ya a name?”

 

“No... Daryl, what's going on?”

 

The mechanic sighed. “My stalker left me more flowers 'n a present this mornin. Rick took them 'n they did an x-ray of the box. Inside was mah mother's locket 'n the key ta mah old dorm room in Atlanta.”

 

“Jesus, baby, are you okay?”

 

The worry in Paul's voice made him smile. “'m fine... Rick said after the investigation I can have the locket back.” Daryl paused. “... Paul... til' this thang ends... maybe we should stay tagether at night. I dunno what this guy's gonna do ta ya.”

 

“You know I can protect myself, Daryl; but, if it'll make you feel better... why don't you move in with me?”

 

“Temporarily, ya mean?”

 

Paul hesitated and Daryl could hear the scratching of a pencil on drawing paper. “No... I mean... permanently.”

 

“... A-Are ya sure? S'only been a few weeks since we started datin.”

 

“Daryl... I love you. Nothing's going to change that. You spending the weekend with me made me realize I want you around all the time. Not just for dinner and not just to stay the night every few days. I miss you when you leave. My bed is always too cold. I want to see our clothes mixed together and see your cologne on the bathroom sink-”

 

Daryl chuckled. “I get it, I get it... if yer really sure... I can move this weekend.”

 

“When you come for dinner tonight, bring some clothes and just stay with me over the week. We'll get everything else on Saturday.”

 

“Okay... I love ya.”

 

Paul smiled, staring down at the picture he draw of Daryl sleeping. “I love you, too. See you tonight.”

 

Daryl hung up and put his phone back on the work table. Feeling much better, he turned and continued working on the truck that had been brought in. After he closed the shop, he went up to his studio and grabbed his duffle bag. He packed enough clothes to last the rest of the week and his toiletries. He threw out any food that would go bad while he was at Paul's and grabbed some of the things he knew Paul would want. Once he was done, he locked up the studio and went downstairs, debating what to do with his bike. After a moment, he pushed into the garage so it wouldn't be stolen. He tossed the duffle bag into the back seat and made his way to Paul's apartment.

 

When he got up to Paul's apartment door, he noticed a small spot of black paint on the frame next to the door number on the wall. He frowned a bit and knocked. Paul answered not too long after and smiled.

 

“I should probably get you a key-”

 

“Did ya have paint on yer hands?” The mechanic asked, pointing to the circle of black paint.

 

Paul blinked and stepped into the hall and looked at it. “No. Maybe they're going to repaint.” He shrugged and stepped inside.

 

Daryl frowned, eyeing the spot for a moment more before stepping inside. He shut and locked the door. “That man ever come back by?”

 

Paul looked over at him from the kitchen, stirring some sauce. “He did; and, no, he did not give me his name. He just gave me a description of his ex-boyfriend.”

 

Daryl set his bag on the couch and took his jacket and gloves off. “Yer shop has cameras right?”

 

“Yes. He was wearing a hat, though, so I don't think you'll get a very good look at him.” The artist put the lid on the pot and turned as Daryl walked over to him. “I could draw him if you want.”

 

The mechanic sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Nah... 'm jus bein paranoid. Could be nothin.”

 

Paul smiled, fingers going into the other man's belt loops and pulling him closer. “You have every right to be, Daryl. Don't ignore your instincts, okay?”

 

Daryl nodded and leaned down to kiss the artist, bringing his hands up to his cheeks. He pulled away after a moment and smirked. “Could get used ta this... comin home ta a sexy artist, dinner already cookin...”

 

Paul smacked his ass with a grin. “No, you won't. You'd miss cooking too much.” The mechanic chuckled and kissed him again.

 

 

The next morning after Daryl left for work, Paul was running late. He couldn't find his car keys buried under the stack of bills on his kitchen counter. He rushed to put his coat on and as he opened the door, he saw someone in a black hoodie and a hat low on his head walking away from the apartment door. He frowned in suspicion. He looked up and down the hallway, but saw nothing amiss and stepped out. He shut and locked the apartment door and hurried down the stairs to his car to get to the shop.

 

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. His shop was starting to get more business thanks to the holidays that had passed and more people now knew about him. During his down time, he started drawing the strange man's ex-boyfriend, playing special attention to his eyes and hair. The man had been very specific about them and he wanted to do it justice. As he began finishing the drawing, he frowned. This college student looked vaguely like a younger Daryl. The bell above his door rang and he looked up and smiled.

 

“Nice timing. I just finished it.”

 

The man walked up to the counter and smiled. “Thank you. How much do I owe you?”

 

“Oh, don't worry about paying me. First drawing is always free.” He handed the drawing over after putting it into a protective sleeve. “Just tell people about me and my shop and that'll be perfect payment.”

 

The man took the drawing. “Thank you... really. What's your name?”

 

“Paul.... Monroe.” The artist smiled. If he was indeed Daryl's stalker, he wasn't about to give out his last name. Monroe had been his mother's last name before she'd remarried.

 

The man nodded. “Again... thank you.” He turned and left the shop, passing Paul's car as he walked into the street.

 

Paul watched him go, getting a good look at the truck he got into and even writing down the license plate number, just in case. He closed up shop not too long after and got into his car to drive home. When he got to the apartment door, Rick and Tara were waiting for him in uniform.

 

“What's... going on?”

 

“Is Daryl going to be home soon?” Tara asked, biting her lower lip.

 

“He... should be. Come in and wait.” He unlocked the door and stepped in, turning the light on. He tossed his keys on the counter and took his jacket off. “Is everything alright?”

 

Rick put his hands on his hips. “... We found his truck in a ditch on the out skirts of town.”

 

“The S-10 that Merle stole?” The artist asked as he put on a pot of coffee. When the sheriff nodded, Paul leaned against the counter. “Merle in jail?” Rick and Tara glanced at each other. They both turned as the door opened and Daryl walked in.

 

“Mother fuckin cold out...” The mechanic grumbled, taking his jacket off. He paused when he saw Rick and Tara standing in the middle of the room. “... What's goin on? Paul, are ya alright?” He dropped his gloves to the floor and immediately went to the artist.

 

“I'm fine, Daryl. They were waiting here when I got home. Something about the S-10.” Paul smiled, heart swelling at Daryl's worried expression and the hand on his back.

 

Daryl kissed his cheek before turning to Rick. “Is Merle in the slammer?”

 

The sheriff sighed. “Daryl.... Merle's dead.”

 

Daryl stared at him, his hand slowly sliding off Paul's back. “... What?”

 

Rick stepped closer. “A driver reported seeing a truck rolled into a ditch off I-67 between here and Arcania. When Tara and I went out to investigate, we found trace amounts of cocaine and three needles of heroine in the glove compartment. Merle's body was ten feet away. He'd been shot three times in the chest. He bled out, Daryl.” Tara looked down at the floor, thumbs in the belt around her hips. “From what we can tell, it seems like a gang dispute.”

 

Paul pushed himself away from the counter, turning to Daryl. “Baby...?”

 

“Ya sure it's Merle?” Daryl whispered.

 

“Yes. We need you to come to the station's morgue and claim his body, though.” Tara whispered back. She'd never liked Merle, but he was Daryl's family.

 

The mechanic took a deep breath. “... 'Kay... let's go.”

 

 

It had seemed unreal when Rick told him his brother was dead, but staring down at Merle's pale, bruised body made it real. He could hear the older Dixon's words ringing in his head. 'Ain't no one can kill Merle but Merle, baby brother.' The tears started flowing steadily. He felt Paul take his hand and he gripped it tightly. Rick asked him a couple questions and he answered them the best he could. He hadn't seen or heard from Merle in years so he had no idea what the older Dixon had been doing or why he seemed to be returning to town.

 

Rick let them go after a couple more questions and Paul drove them back home. As Paul turned down the street to take them home, he looked over at Daryl who was staring out the window, chewing on a thumb nail. He reached his free hand over and gently took the mechanic's hand from his mouth, holding it tightly. Daryl looked at him and smiled weakly. The artist smiled back, returning his eyes to the road ahead of them.

 

“What d'ya want fer dinner?”

 

“I was thinking maybe chili. I've got some meat thawed in the fridge.”

 

Daryl nodded. He opened his mouth to speak, but bright lights from the driver's side stopped him, and then he heard a loud crash and his head was sent into the window. His vision blacked out.

 

 

When he came to, he was in a small room at the hospital. Rick was sitting in a chair to his left. He groaned and reached up, feeling the bandaged on the right side of his head. “Rick..?”

 

The cop stood and stepped up to the stretcher. “Hey... how d'you feel?”

 

“Sore... what happened?”

 

“You and Paul got into a car accident. A truck t-boned you and then drove off.”

 

Daryl's eyes widened and he shot up. “Paul! Where is he?”

 

“He's in surgery...” Rick whispered.

 

“What?!”

 

“He had massive damage to his left leg and some bleeding in his brain. He's been in surgery for two hours now.” When Rick saw Daryl's hands shaking, he reached down and took hold of them. “Daryl... can you tell me anything about the driver that hit you?”

 

“N-No... all I 'member is bright lights 'n a loud crash.”

 

Rick nodded in understanding. “Alright. I'm gonna stay here with you. They said you're fine. You have a bit of a concussion and some cuts and scrapes, but that's about it. Let me go get the nurse and let her know you're awake so they can discharge you.”

 

Daryl watched him leave, not really hearing anything he was saying. Paul was in surgery. His leg was broken and he had bleeding in his brain. Merle was dead. He took a deep breath and rubbed his face, wincing when he pressed on a cut on his cheek. The nurse came in and looked him over and gave him instructions and a paper to sign. He signed it, not listening to whatever she was telling him. After he got dressed, Rick led him to the surgery waiting room to wait for the doctor to come out with news on Paul.

 

It was another two hours before the surgeon came out and talked to them. Paul was alright. They had to place some pins in his leg and they stopped the bleeding in his brain. He would have some memory loss, but it would return with time. They were putting him up on the fourth floor but he didn't know which room. Rick went with Daryl up to the floor where they asked for Paul's room number. When the nurse wouldn't give it to them, Rick showed her his badge and that Paul was a victim of a hit and run and he needed to talk to him. She relented and gave Paul's room number. When they stepped in, Paul was still unconscious. He had bandages around his head and left leg. An oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose, helping him to breathe.

 

Daryl swallowed thickly, walking up to the bed and taking Paul's hand. Rick pulled a chair over and Daryl sat down. The Sheriff stayed with him for a bit before he had to leave. The mechanic didn't move, not even when the nurse walked in to check on Paul's vitals. He kept his eyes on his love's face, counting every breath and every movement of his eyes. As the hours passed, he slowly leaned over, laying his head on the bed and holding Paul's hand tightly. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

 


	8. Ch. 8

Around five AM, Paul's nurse walked into the room to check on his vitals and give him his medicine. She was startled by the figure sitting next to the bed with his head laying on her patient's stomach, sleeping peacefully. She stepped up to the man and went to put her hand on his shoulder to gently shake him awake. 

“Don't wake him...”

She startled and looked at her patient. “You're awake.”

Paul lifted his other hand and placed it on Daryl's head. “He's been here all night, he needs to sleep.”

The nurse watched them for a moment, then smiled and nodded. “I have your pain medicine here.” She whispered. She scanned the ID bracelet on his arm and then opened the package with the syringe and pushed the medicine into his IV. “Do you need anything?”

“Water...”

She nodded and left, then came back with some water and a straw. She moved his oxygen mask and bent the straw to let him drink from it. 

“Thank you...” He panted a bit. “Can you... tell me what happened?”

“You and your friend-”

“Boyfriend...”

“... You and your boyfriend were in a car accident. Your car was t-boned by a truck.” The nurse explained. She told him about his injuries and how he would need physical therapy. After answering his questions, she left him to sleep a little longer. 

When Daryl woke up it was 8 in the morning. Paul was sitting up in the bed a bit and talking to Rick. 

“He never gave me a name, but I saw him get into a dark blue 2012 Ford. I even wrote the license plate number, just in case he happened to be Daryl's stalker.”

“Can you draw a picture of him for me if the camera doesn't reveal too much about him?” Rick asked, taking down notes. 

“Yes. I'll give you the key to my shop. The license plate number should still be on the note pad under the register.”

“Perfect.” Rick said and closed his notebook. 

“Paul...” Daryl sat up. 

Paul turned to look at him and smiled. “Good morning, handsome.”

The mechanic stood and leaned over him. “Ya okay..?”

“Well... I could be better, but... I'll be fine.” The artist simply smiled more. “Are you okay, baby?”

Daryl marveled at the man in front of him. Paul's leg was broken and they'd put pins in his bones, he'd had brain surgery, he was more than likely sore and tired. He would need physical therapy in order to walk again, but he could still smile and ask if Daryl was alright. “You...” Daryl's lips trembled, he sat on the edge of the bed and hugged Paul tightly, loosening his grip when the artist winced a bit.

“Daryl...?”

Rick smiled, watching them. “He was very upset yesterday when I told him what happened.”

Paul smiled, wrapping his arms around Daryl's waist. “I'm okay, baby.”

The artist was in the hospital for two weeks. Glenn managed the auto shop while Daryl managed Paul's art shop since it would be awhile before he could return. His leg was in the cast for eight weeks and when it finally came off, he took a long hot bath, nearly scrubbing the skin of his leg raw. He couldn't walk too well and had to use a crutch, but his physical therapy started a few days later. While he was used to exercising, training the muscles in his legs to work again had him quite tired. Daryl would pick him up from his appointment, they would go home and eat dinner, he would take a bath and immediately fall asleep.

Two weeks after Paul started his physical therapy, Rick assigned officers to stake out their apartment. Daryl had been noticing more and more that he was often being followed and watched. More than once he found his car broken into or went to his studio for something and found it ransacked. After an extensive investigation into the mechanic's stalker, they discovered it wasn't Philip Blake that had been following Daryl. Philip Blake died in a car accident five years ago. It was in fact ex-officer Kevin Bailey. So, he sat outside their apartment complex one night, cup of coffee in hand and Tara in the seat next to him, munching on some donuts. 

“Hopefully Paul will be able to get back into martial arts once his therapy finishes.” Tara said softly. 

“Daryl says he's determined to. The therapist said it'll be a while before his leg will be back to full strength, but he can at least hobble around with a cane now.” He paused, seeing a hunched over figure wearing a dark hoodie and his cap pulled down low. The figure knelt in front of the locked door of the complex and picked the lock and headed inside. “Go time, Chambler.” He set his coffee down and got out of the car. 

Tara wiped her hands quickly and followed suit, getting out of the car and following her boss into the complex. They headed up the stairs quietly and saw the man heading into Daryl and Paul's apartment. Rick stopped by the door and very quietly opened it, peeking into the apartment. The man was heading down the hall to their bedroom. The sheriff motioned Tara to follow him and they entered the apartment. He caught up to the intruder before he could enter the bedroom and brought his gun up. 

“Do not open that door.” The sheriff hissed, bringing the hammer on his gun down. 

Daryl's eyes snapped open when he heard a click of a gun hammer. He'd always been a light sleeper, growing up the way he had. Paul was still sound asleep, leg up on a pillow and the blanket tossed off him. It was rather hot in the apartment, even more so with Daryl practically draped over him. The mechanic lifted his head off the artist's shoulder and looked around the dark bedroom sleepily. He listened intently and heard whispering outside the bedroom door. 

“Turn around and put your hands up.”

'Rick..?' The mechanic sat up slowly, pushing the blanket off his own body. He stood slowly, not wanting to disturb his slumbering artist. He walked to the door, silent as a predator, and listened to the voices. 

“I said... turn around and put your hands up. Good. You're under arrest. Put your hands behind your back.”

“Daryl..? What're you doing?” Paul asked a bit too loudly, blinking blearily at the mechanic as he sat up.

Daryl tensed. He heard a loud crash on the other side of the door and swore. He swung the door open. Rick was shoved up against the wall, his gun on the ground and a broken picture frame next to it. The intruder had a knife to the sheriff's neck. 

“Let 'im go!” Daryl grabbed up the gun and aimed it at the intruder. 

The intruder smirked and looked at Daryl, eyes roving over his bare chest down to his hips. “Daryl.... I hadn't meant to wake you.” He licked his lips, his grip on Rick and the knife loosening. 

“Don't know who the fuck ya are, but ya better let go'a mah friend'r this gun is gonna be yer new friend.” Daryl growled. 

“I'll be with you in a second, darling. Let me just take care of this asshole.” He turned his gaze back to Rick, pressing the knife deeper into the sheriff's skin, drawing a tiny bit of blood. 

“Don't! Please... I-I'll do anythang ya want, jus... let Rick go.” Daryl lowered the gun, releasing the hammer and putting the safety on. “See..? No one's threatenin ya...” He put the gun on the ground. 

The intruder looked at him, spotting Paul sitting on the edge of the bed and watching them. “You didn't open my gift to you, Daryl. Why?”

“I... didn't know it was from ya. Wasn't gonna jus open a random box on mah door step...”

The intruder chuckled. “Of course not. I'm sorry, I should've thought of that after the life you've had.” He shoved Rick into the wall as he stepped away, lowering the knife. “Do you know who I am?”

Daryl flicked the hall light on and stared. The man in front of him wasn't Philip Blake. He squinted. “Officer Bailey...?”

“Yes! I'm so glad you remember me!” He stepped up to Daryl, who stepped back. 

“How long ya been... followin me?”

“Only a few years! I lost my badge and gun-”

“He sexually assaulted a man behind a bar one night!” Rick growled, reaching up to cover the cut on his neck. “He spent two years in prison and was released three years ago.”

When Kevin turned to punch Rick, Tara tackled him from behind and grabbed one of his arm, twisting it behind his back. Rick knelt to help her subdue him. They got cuffs on him, ignoring his kicking and screaming. Rick forced him to stand and pulled him out of the apartment and down into the cruiser. Tara checked on Paul before following him down, saying she'd send another officer to just watch them for the night. Daryl thanked her and shut and locked the door. He walked back to the bedroom where Paul was laying back down. 

Daryl sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face tiredly. “S'over... finally.”

Paul smiled bitterly. “... We're moving.”

The mechanic looked down at him, brows furrowed at the sudden statement. “Yer lease isn't up.”

“I don't care. I'm not staying in this apartment knowing some stranger has been in it who knows how many times. He's probably been through all of our personal things and installed bugs to listen or watch us. What if he's been watching us this entire time?”

“Paul, Rick and Tara went through the apartment last week. They didn't find any bugs.”

“Probably because he came in and took them down! Daryl, this asshole t-boned my car and broke my leg! I had to have brain surgery! I've lost some of my memories! I don't remember who my sixth grade boyfriend was, or if I even had a boyfriend in sixth grade!” Paul pushed himself up in bed, leaning back against the head board. 

Daryl swallowed thickly, looking down at the floor. Paul was hurt and scared because he'd refused to go on one date with a cop who probably saved his life. “'m sorry...”

“For what?” The artist sighed tiredly. 

“Cause'a me, ya can't walk...”

Paul's lips parted in shock. “Daryl, baby, no... I'm not blaming you.”

The mechanic stood off the bed. “No.. it is mah fault. That's the cop that stopped mah stalker in college. He asked me on a date after the asshole was put in jail 'n I rejected him. Guess he became obsessed wit me. If I'd jus dated 'im, maybe he woulda realized I wasn't worth it 'n dumped me 'n this wouldn't've happened. Ya'd be workin out 'n managin yer shop... doin what ya love.” He murmured, walking to the bedroom door.

“Daryl, you can't- baby, please, come back...” The bedroom door shut as Daryl left. Paul swallowed the lump in his throat.

Daryl stepped outside in front of the apartment complex, itching for a cigarette. It'd been a long time since he'd felt the urge and it was very strong right now. Instead, he leaned against the brick wall, fiddling with a little puzzle in his hands. He was only in some jeans and a t-shirt, and it was a bit chilly, but he didn't mind. It felt rather good at the moment. Puzzles helped him think, much like hunting. It gave his hands something to do when they itched to hold or punch something. Dr. Rayne had suggested he start doing puzzles when he felt aggravated or upset. 

He knew what Paul was going to say. He was not at fault for Bailey's insanity. He had every right to say no to dating the man back in college. He shouldn't feel guilty for Paul's broken leg and lost memories. Yes, the artist was right. Daryl was not at fault here, but he couldn't help feeling that he should've done something to stop Bailey before things had gotten out of hand. Maybe he could've gone to Rick earlier. Maybe he could've done his own little investigation. He could hear Dr. Rayne telling him to close his eyes, ignore everything around him and imagine himself in his cabin. 

So he did. He closed his eyes, imagine his little cabin in the forest, the smell of fresh air after a rain and the sound of the fire crackling in the fire place. Paul warm and laying next to him, smelling of his cologne, sweat and their love. His hand sliding up his chest, petting the sparse hair there, lips pressing into his neck while their legs tangled together. He slowed his breathing, taking in the fantasy and relaxing his muscles. He opened his eyes with a smile. 

No. There was nothing he could've done. He was not responsible for Kevin Bailey's actions. Pocketing the puzzle, he turned and unlocked the door, heading back upstairs to his and Paul's apartment. When he walked in, Paul was trying to sweep up the broken glass. 

“Gonna hurt yerself.” Daryl rasped as he walked up to him. 

Paul looked up at him and smiled a bit as Daryl took the dustpan from him. Together, they cleaned the glass up and threw away the broken frame. Daryl put the broom and dust pan up before picking Paul up and carrying him to their bed. He set him down gently, then sat next to him. 

“I agree wit ya... we should move.”

Paul looked up at him. “Daryl-”

“Jus... lemme say this.” Daryl waited until Paul nodded for him to continue. “I already been lookin at houses. There's one fer rent a few blocks away. It's small, but... I think ya'd like it. S'got three bedrooms, a nice big kitchen and a big living room wit built in book cases fer all yer books. They jus finished renovating it. I's thinkin... we could stay there til' we're ready ta get married 'n buy a house.”

The artist smiled. “You keep surprising me.” He reached and took Daryl's hands. “Daryl, I didn't mean that I blame you for what's happened. You had no control over any of this.” 

The mechanic nodded. “I... worked it out in mah head, so, I know... I don't blame mahself. I started to, which is why I went outside.”

Paul smiled, leaning forward and kissing him softly. “So, this house... when can I see it?”

“We can go tamorrow after yer appointment if ya want.” He pulled off his shirt and pants, then reached over to shut the bedroom light off. The hallway light was left on. He didn't think neither of them would be able to sleep in the dark for a while. “We get this house, we're getting an alarm system.”

“And a dog... I'm thinking a pit bull maybe.”

Daryl curled up to him, drawing the sheet across their bodies. “Agreed.” He sighed softly, nuzzling into Paul's neck. Paul's hand stroked up and down his back before resting on his shoulder, holding him close and tight. He relaxed, breathing in his love's scent, and fell asleep.

 

The next day after Paul's appointment, Daryl drove them down a quiet street a few blocks away from his auto shop and to a small gray house. It had a fresh coat of paint and a cute little charm to it. Paul stepped out of the jeep carefully and waited for Daryl to come around and walk next to him. The landlord was waiting on the porch for them. He nodded and waved to Daryl.

“Mr. Dixon, it is a great pleasure to see you again. Is this the aforementioned boyfriend?”

Paul raised an eyebrow at the man with the mullet. “Yes. Paul Rovia.” He reached out to shake his hand. 

“Eugene Porter.” The man shook his hand, then turned and let them into the house. He started spouting about all the renovations done to the house, but Paul didn't listen.

The door opened into the living room, hard wood floors and crème colored walls. There was a line of windows right by the door, bringing in plenty of natural light. It was open-floor planned, so Paul could see right through the dining room into the kitchen. He held Daryl's hand as they walked through a hall way into the master bedroom which had it's own bathroom. The master bedroom was a good size with large windows to let in plenty of light and a walk in closet. The other two bedrooms were fairly small, but they would be perfect offices or a library or somewhere for them to work out. Paul smiled. It was perfect. They couldn't entertain too many people at a time, maybe just Rick and Michonne or Glenn and Maggie. The backyard was huge, though, and Paul could see them having many bar-b-ques back there.

When they finished the tour, Eugene led them back outside and locked up. He nodded to them. “What do you think?”

Daryl looked down at Paul. “Ya already know mah opinion. I think we'd be happy here fer a couple years.”

The artist nodded. “I love it. When can we move in?”

Eugene smiled a bit. “Whenever you desire to. I have got the papers in the car if you would like to draw up a contract right now.”

The mechanic nodded. “Sounds good.”

After Eugene retrieved the papers, they returned into the house and stood at the island in the kitchen, reading over it and discussing the rent and possibility of putting in a security system as well as getting a dog. With everything agreed upon, Daryl and Paul signed the contract and shook hands with the man. They left the house and returned to the apartment complex. When Daryl explained the situation, the manager was very understanding and agreed to cut the contract short with a minimal fee and no return deposit, which Paul was alright with. Through out the week, they packed and slowly moved into the house. When the weekend came, their friends helped them move everything. It took two trips because Daryl still had some things in the studio, but they got it done in one day. 

They ordered a pizza that night, treating everyone to dinner. On Sunday, Rick helped Daryl install the security system, making sure it connected to both his and Paul's phones. Paul unpacked his books, putting them on the built in bookshelves. He decorated with his paintings and hung some new curtains. With the security system installed, Daryl helped unpack the kitchen and their bedroom. They used Paul's bed since it was a queen and Daryl's had been only a twin. He'd left it at the studio and put the studio apartment up for rent after they thoroughly cleaned it.

After the house was completely unpacked and everything how they want it for the moment, Paul started a hot bath and they relaxed in the tub surrounded by hot water and bath salts. Paul leaned back against Daryl's chest, enjoying the soft touches and purring sighs against his ear. 

“I'll start looking around for puppies... or would you rather adopt a full grown dog?” Paul whispered, fingers petting the hairs on Daryl's thigh. 

“We'll look 'round... see what we find.” The mechanic whispered back, petting Paul's arm and shoulder. The artist nodded against his shoulder. “Paul...”

“Hm?”

“Want ya in me...” 

Paul shifted, turning a bit to look at the mechanic. “... Are you sure?”

Daryl nodded. “Know ya can't do it right now wit yer leg, but-”

“No, no no no... we can do it... just... you'll have to ride me.” Paul smiled, leaning to kiss the corner of Daryl's mouth. 

“Don't wanna hurt ya, though.”

“You won't... not if we go slow enough.” He pressed kisses up and down Daryl's neck, nipping gently. “Please... I want you so bad, Daryl.”

The mechanic moaned softly, dropping his head back, enjoying the lips and teeth on his neck. “Want ya, too.” He gently pushed Paul off of him and grabbed a couple towels. He helped the artist out of the tub and drained the water before drying off. 

They moved to the bedroom and Paul laid down. He expected Daryl to lay next to him, but the mechanic crawled into his lap, hands and lips sliding up his stomach and chest, stopping to suck a nipple. Paul moaned breathily, hands in Daryl's hair and arching his back. They kissed, lips sliding together wetly, soft whimpers and moans passing between them. Daryl straddled his hips and grinded down on him. Their cocks rubbed together, throbbing and twitching with the friction. Paul reached his hands down, gripping the mechanic's hips.

Daryl reached to Paul's nightstand, ripping the drawer open and pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom packet. “Condom..?”

Paul stared up at him. “... I tested shortly after we got together. I'm clean.”

The mechanic nodded. “... Same here.” He hadn't been with anyone since Negan. He'd never even slept with Negan, but he wanted to be safe. 

Daryl dropped the condom back into the nightstand. His hands shook as he flicked the lube open, pouring a bit in his hand and on Paul's fingers. He inched forward a bit on his knees so Paul's fingers could reach him. He moaned as soon as finger pushed in. Reaching down, he grabbed the artist's cock, stroking it to spread the warm lube. Their lips met again, soft and warm. Paul had been so surprised Daryl had said he wanted him. The artist had always bottomed for the man, rarely ever being able to top. He hadn't minded, sex with Daryl had always been amazing. Now, feeling the mechanic writhe and buck against his fingers, he knew he wouldn't last long. As soon as he pulled his fingers out, Daryl was pushing down on him. 

“Fuck... you're so tight...” Paul arched his back, holding onto Daryl's hips and straining to keep his legs still. 

The mechanic waited for a moment, breathing heavy and staring down at the artist under him. 'Shit, he feels good. Why the hell did I wait so damn long ta let 'im in?' He started slowly, rolling his hips and feeling the rock hard member slide in and out. He leaned down, kissing Paul slowly, one hand in his hair and the other caressing his chest. He shifted his hips just right and moaned out loudly when the head brushed his prostate. “Paul...” The whimper sounded pathetic to him, but Paul bucked his hips at the sound.

“Daryl... c'mon, baby... faster, please.”

The mechanic groaned, rolling his hips faster, resting his head on Paul's shoulder. The artist couldn't help cursing his left leg. If it wasn't so damn weak, he would be rolling them over and making more of those beautiful sounds leave his love's throat. For now, he settled for reaching for Daryl's cock, wrapping his hand around it and stroking it to the pace of their hips. 

“Fuck..!” Daryl set up, spreading his legs a bit more and bouncing faster. He looked down, meeting Paul's gaze. “Ain't... gonna last...”

Paul smiled, panting and sweating, cheeks read and hair matted to his forehead. “Me neither...” He stroked Daryl faster, lickings his lips, watching as the mechanic threw his head back and cried out with his orgasm. “Shit, baby...” He arched his own back, bucking once more into the other man and spilling inside him. He moaned, rolling his hips slowly, milking his orgasm. 

Daryl slowly pulled off of him, slowly rolling to lay on his back and catch his breath. “Yer leg...?”

Paul smiled. “It's fine, love...” He pulled Daryl back down on his chest, kissing his temple and cuddling him close. “I love you, Daryl.”

Daryl smiled, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Love ya, too.”

The artist carded his fingers through his love's sweaty hair, his breathing evening out and hot body cooling. He inhaled deeply and released it slowly. His leg was throbbing a bit, but he ignored it. They'd had a busy weekend with the move and then making love. He smiled, pressing a kiss to Daryl's forehead. They'd have to take a shower in the morning, but for now, he drew the sheet over them and relaxed to sleep.


	9. Ch. 9

Things were finally going good for them. Paul was walking on his own and returning to work at the shop. Business was definitely speeding up for him. He now had two part time employees to help him and the store was slowly expanding. He was now selling books on art and his own paintings. He suspected in a few years he may need a bigger building for his shop. Daryl's shop was still doing just as well. He was tempted to find a bigger building with a third garage, but he was fine waiting. They were still very much in love. They had their fair share of arguments. Paul tended to leave his art supplies laying around for Daryl to trip over and Daryl had a habit of staying at the shop too late, but these were resolved quickly and forgiven. 

They didn't go out on dates very much, preferring to stay in and cook together. Sometimes Paul would come home and dinner would be done already done, candles and roses on the table. He was hesitant to try to romance Daryl. He wasn't sure how Daryl felt about it, yet. When they'd dated the first time, Daryl had hated it, grumbling that he wasn't a woman. However, Paul now knew that was just the Dixon bloodline talking. So, he made plans to try it out one night. He knew Daryl hated being the center of attention, so he decided to try it at night out at the lake.

Daryl walked into the house a little before seven. He'd had a busy day and was tired. He wanted to just make dinner with Paul, take a hot bath and go to sleep. He tossed his keys in the coin dish by the door and looked around. Dinner was on the table already, but Paul was no where to be found. He blinked at the roses and the soft music flowing from the stereo under the TV.

“Paul..?” He took his shoes off and padded across the hardwood floor to the hall way leading to the bedrooms. He walked into their room and smiled, hearing the shower going. He yanked his shirt off, tossing it into the hamper by the closet and walked into the bathroom. He eyed the naked expanse of Paul's skin through the door of the shower and, instantly rejuvenated, shoved his pants and underwear off. “Hey, baby...” He whispered as he stepped into the shower and hugged Paul from behind. “I saw ya made dinner.”

Paul smiled, leaning back against him. “It's just spaghetti and a salad.”

“Mn... mah favorite.” Daryl growled into his ear, sliding his hands over Paul's bare, wet chest. 

The artist chuckled. “I know. You're so easy to please.” When Daryl's hands slid lower, he grabbed them. “None of that right now.” 

Daryl nipped his shoulder. “Why? Got a hot date tonight?”

Paul turned in his arms, hugging his shoulders. “I do.” He kissed Daryl softly. “We're gonna eat dinner, then take his motorcycle out to the lake where we're going to share some cake and ice cream and make love under the stars.”

“Yeah..? Sounds like a good time. He's a lucky man.”

The artist smiled brightly, grinning goofily. “He is indeed. He gets to eat my food, sleep in my bed, get fucked by me.” He nipped Daryl's bottom lip. “Bet you're jealous.”

“Mn... very jealous.” 

They laughed at their own silliness and started washing each other. After their shower, they got dressed and sat down to eat. Daryl kissed him and thanked him for the flowers. He didn't normally care to receive flowers from anyone, but they were from Paul and he cherished them. After dishes were cleaned, they got onto Daryl's bike and he drove them out to the lake where they had their first date. They spread a blanket and laid down on it, cuddling and talking quietly. It was a warm night, but a gentle breeze helped keep them cool. They did share a bowl of cake and ice cream. Even though the ice cream was nearly melted, they didn't care.

Daryl above him, hips thrusting and hard cock moving in him was Paul's favorite view of the mechanic. His blue eyes were darker, but filled with love and passion, gazing down on the artist. Moaning softly, Paul arched his back, hands and legs pulling the mechanic closer to him. There wasn't any rush, so Daryl was going slow, sliding his hands over the artist's legs and hips, teasing the leaking cock trapped between them. They kissed lovingly, lips meeting again and again, breathing each other's air and scent. Paul's hands never stilled, threading through Daryl's hair and down to his shoulders, sliding across his neck and biceps. As they reached their peak, Paul decided it was time to make Daryl his for good.

 

He called Tara a week later and asked her to meet him at the mall in the food court. As he sat at a table near the doors waiting for her, he looked through the pictures on his phone he'd been taking of Daryl since they got back together. He sighed wistfully. His future husband was so handsome. Tara snuck up behind him and grinned. 

“He looks so cute when he sleeps.”

The man started, nearly dropping his phone. He fumbled to catch it before it hit the floor.“Tara... Jesus... are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

She giggled and took the seat across from him. “Got any naughty pictures of him in there?”

“No.” 'Yes.' He blushed a bit and shoved the phone in his pocket.

The woman merely smirked knowingly. “So, what are we here for? Another date night?”

“No. I'm planning to propose to Daryl. So-”

“OMG! PAUL!” She jumped out of her chair and hugged him tightly. “Yay!”

Paul smiled, patting her back. “Yeah, it's... I figure it's about time. He's been giving me these looks like he's waiting.”

Tara released him and stepped back. “Well, yeah! It's been almost a year since you guys got back together.”

They ate lunch together and then walked to the other side of the mall where the jewelry stores were. Paul didn't have any idea what to look for. Daryl wasn't really one for flashy jewelry and he wouldn't be able to wear it while working. Tara stayed next to him, pointing a few different bands out, but they were either too extravagant or too simple. After three different jewelry stores, Paul was a bit frustrated. Tara eventually had to leave for a date and apologized to Paul. She said there wasn't too much of a rush, that he should take his time. So, over the next several days he went to different jewelry stores, but still couldn't find the right ring. Just when he was about to give up and go online to try to find something, he found a hidden store just down the street from his own shop. 

He walked in and looked around. It was a bit dim inside, but there were multiple lamps on the glass counters so customers could get better looks at the rings they chose. He walked up to the counters, slowly roving his eyes over the multiple men and women wedding bands. He was about to sigh and leave when he came to the last counter and spotted a silver band with a buck and deer hooves engraved in it. The door behind the counter opened and a woman stepped out. 

“Hello. Can I help you?”

He looked up at her and smiled. “Yes, could I see that silver ring with the buck on it?”

She nodded and took a key off her wrist and unlocked the door. She reached in and grabbed the box, carefully pulling it out and setting it on the glass top. “You can take it out and look closer.”

Paul carefully plucked the ring from the cushion, bringing it up closer. It was perfect. He'd always likened Daryl to a buck or wolf. Both were proud, strong creatures, loyal to their pack or herd. He smiled, imagining it on Daryl's finger. It belonged there. 

“Who's it for, if I may ask?”

The artist looked up at her. “My boyfriend... he's really big into hunting and camping in the forest. He's proud and strong... like a buck.” She smiled sweetly. “I've been looking all over town for the perfect ring, and I believe I just found it.”

 

Daryl didn't suspect a thing. At least, Paul hoped he didn't. He kept the ring hidden in his desk in his art room. Daryl rarely went in there, respecting Paul's personal space just like Paul rarely went into the garage. Now that Paul had a ring, he had to plan how he was going to propose. Daryl had given him a hint, but the artist knew it didn't matter how he proposed. Daryl would say yes. 

“Tara, I have a problem.” Paul whined into the phone. It was quiet in the store, so he was using this chance to try to come up with some ideas. 

“Oh no, did Daryl say no?”

“No, I haven't proposed, yet. I bought the ring, I just don't know how to go about popping the question.” The artist sighed, scribbling on some paper to try to relax. 

“Paul, you know Daryl. It's not going to matter how you do it. He just wants to marry you.”

“I know, I know... I just... I want it to be perfect. Daryl deserves the best.”

“Well, what do ya'll like doing together?'

Paul frowned. They do a lot together. “We do everything together, Tara. We cook dinner, clean the house, go out to his cabin for the weekend.”

“You could do something at his cabin. It's always been a place of sanctuary and solace for him, hasn't it? Isn't that where ya'll had your first date after you got back together?”

Paul smiled brightly. “Tara! You're brilliant!”

The girl laughed. “I know. It's why you come to me for advice.”

 

He planned it for a Saturday night. They arrived at the cabin Friday night after both their shops closed down and they packed for their weekend get away. Paul made sure to put the ring at the very bottom of his clothing pile, hidden in a pair of his boxers. When he woke up the next morning it was to Daryl's mouth on his cock. He moaned and looked blearily at the mechanic between his legs. 

“Mmn... such a tease...”

Daryl chuckled around the mouthful and sucked harder, bobbing his head. He swallowed the cum down when Paul reached his orgasm and sat up, licking his lips. “Yum, breakfast.” Paul chuckled, reaching up to pull the man down into a kiss. “Gonna come hunt wit me?”

“No. Think I'll stay in this time, get the cabin cleaned up and...” He almost said 'get ready for tonight,' but he stopped himself. “Just... you know... give us some time alone from each other.”

Daryl raised an eyebrow at him, but nodded. “A'ight... if that's what ya want.” He kissed Paul once more before getting up and heading into the shower. 

After Daryl left to go hunting and hiking, Paul immediately got started cleaning the place up. They hadn't been here in a couple weeks, so it was a bit dusty and stale. He opened all the windows and started wiping down all the surfaces. It took him a few hours, but he got the house cleaned up and ready for their weekend stay. He took a quick shower and got into the closet to get out the bag of items he'd purchased for his proposal. He'd come in the day before and hid them away so Daryl wouldn't find them. He smiled down at the bag and set them out on the counter and began unloading it.

Daryl was gone for several hours, not returning until nearly sunset. Paul was thankful the man decided to spend most of the day out hunting. It gave him a chance to get dinner in the oven, the table set and give himself a shower. By the time he had his hair dried and pulled back neatly, Daryl was walking into the room. The mechanic stopped, blinking at Paul wearing skinny jeans and a dark blue dress shirt. He'd seen the table as well when he walked through the cabin. He'd been confused, but excited. He grinned a bit, eyeing the artist hungrily. 

“Hot date tanight?”

Paul smiled, walking up to him and reaching to unbutton his shirt. “Yes... and so do you... so you better get showered, dressed, trimmed...” He nipped Daryl's bottom lip. “And wear Stetson Black, hm?”

Daryl smirked, not daring to touch Paul's outfit with his dirty hands, so he merely kissed the man. “Yes, sir...” He rumbled softly. He watched Paul leave the room before going into the bathroom and shedding his dirty, grimy clothes.

Paul went back out to the kitchen and pulled dinner out of the oven. He poured them both some wine and then got their plates on the table. Daryl came out not too long after, hair still wet, but he'd put a comb through it at least. Paul smiled, seeing Daryl wearing the outfit from their first date. When the man walked up to him, he could smell the Stetson Blake aftershave and moaned softly. They kissed warmly, holding each other close and whispering sweet nothings. They sat down to eat, talking softly about Daryl's hunt and just enjoying each other's company.

After dinner they moved to the lit fireplace and curled up together on the floor amongst pillows and blankets. They kissed softly, nuzzling one another and petting cheeks and necks, pressing close to share heat even if it wasn't needed. Paul gently pushed Daryl down on his back, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, teasing him with nips and licks. The mechanic enjoyed the affections, returning each nip and caress with his own. He pushed Paul's shirt off his shoulders, petting the lean chest above him. The artist moaned softly, those devilish lips moving down his neck.

“Daryl...”

“Mmn?” The mechanic grunted, but continued his ministrations, hands moving down Paul's stomach to his pants. Paul reached down to stop him, making him pull away. “What's wrong?” He rasped, tensing at the nervous expression on his love's face. “Paul, ya okay?”

Paul sat up, clearing his throat softly. “I'm fine. I... I just... want to ask you something.”

Daryl sat up as well, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “Okay...” 

The ring around his neck glinted in the firelight, drawing Paul's eyes to it. It made him even more nervous. He reached up and wrapped his hand around the ring resting on his own sternum, drawing strength from it's warmth. He took a deep breath and scooted a bit further back from Daryl, fidgeting under the man's nervous stare. 

“Paul... what's goin on?”

“Back when we first dated... I fell for you hard and fast... maybe a little too hard and fast. I always tend to do that with a man I find attractive. When I have sex with them, I'm done. I want nothing more to do with them. I fall out of love. It was different with you, though. On our first date, we jumped right in the sack like I knew we would. We had sex by the lake under the moonlight and it was... amazing. I'd never felt anything like that before.” Paul paused, staring into Daryl's worried eyes. “I thought by our second date, I would want to break up with you, but I didn't. I couldn't wait to see you again, to look into your eyes and feel your hand in my hair. I wanted more. Our relationship wasn't perfect. It was very... far from perfect. We fought a lot and I... knew you were hurt... every time an ex of mine came by. I should've stopped it.”

“Paul-”

“I promise I'm going somewhere with this.” He reached out and took Daryl's hand, scooting closer to him again. “When we broke up, I was lost. I was so lost. I didn't want to go to France. I wanted to stay here... where I could see you, even though it would kill me. I went anyways. I knew staying here would be toxic, so I went. I loved it. I really did. France was amazing, but I missed you.” He sniffed, looking down at their hands. “I have about.... fifty three... drawings, paintings and sketches of you.” At Daryl's surprised look, he chuckled. “I had eighty two... but... I got drunk one night after breaking up with Jean that I burned some. I think I blamed you for not being able to get over you.” Daryl looked away. He didn't remember all of his drunken stint here in this very cabin, only bits and pieces. “Anyways... when I came back, I wanted to go to you immediately, but I waited. I opened my store and spent time with the others. After a couple weeks, I tricked Glenn into telling me that you still lived above the shop. So... I went there after closing my store one night.”

Paul paused again, smiling up at Daryl. “When I saw you... looking so relaxed and healthy... my heart started racing. I couldn't believe my own eyes. You looked so handsome, Daryl. You had this brightness to your eyes and this healthy glow about you. I wanted to just kiss you right then and there.” Daryl blushed, glancing at the artist next to him shyly. “I knew it wasn't a good idea, though. As we got to know each other again, I knew it was only a matter of time before I fell in love all over again. I was right... that night at Eric's Italian Plaza, seeing you looking at me so warmly, teasing me and then asking if I would want to give us a second chance... I wanted to yes, Daryl... I really did.”

“Why didn't ya?”

“I knew you weren't ready... and... deep down, I knew I wasn't, either. I was still scared. I was scared that you hadn't really changed that much. The more we saw each other, the more changes I saw and knew they were real and true. Every night after dinner, when you would leave, I felt myself falling more and more in love. You were sticking to your word and pacing yourself. I knew I was ready that night when we had dinner with Glenn and Maggie. You were driving us home, holding my hand and when you dropped me off at home, you looked at me and said-”

“Sweet dreams, beautiful. I'll miss you.” Daryl whispered, smiling warmly.

Paul smiled, blushing a bit. “... Yeah.” He scooted closer again, leaning into Daryl's side. “Daryl...”

“Yes, Paul?” Daryl's heart raced. He had a feeling he knew what Paul was going to say. The man had been acting rather strange the last two weeks, every night he'd seemed to want to ask him something, but had hesitated. He watched, swallowing thickly as Paul pulled something out of his pocket. His breath caught when he saw the ring in the palm of Paul's hand. 

“Will you marry me?”

It was whispered into his ear, the artist's voice shaking and breathy. His hand shook a bit. The silver ring shined and shimmered in the light of the fire. Daryl swallowed thickly, heart pounding so loud he swore Paul could hear it. 

'Holy... fucking... shit.' Daryl's throat closed up. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a whimper. He hadn't expected it so soon. He hoped for it, prayed for it even, but he didn't think Paul was ready. He stared at the ring with a watery gaze as his own shaking hand came up, covering Paul's open palm with it. Paul leaned back a bit, smiling up at him with his own tearful eyes. “Yes...” It was more of a whimper than a word, but it made Paul smile so brightly that it was contagious. Daryl smiled back as the ring was slipped onto his finger. 

“Oh, before I forget...” Paul drew out his phone and fiddled with it for a minute. He smirked as 'Pour Some Sugar on Me' came on. It wasn't Daryl's favorite, but it'd been playing when they met for the first time. The song had echoed in the valley by the lake where their friends had gathered one warm, Friday night with drinks and food. Paul's only thought when he'd seen the mechanic was that he would love to pour sugar over those broad shoulders and lick it up. Daryl laughed, grabbing Paul's face and pulling him into a kiss. 

 

They returned home Sunday evening and took a shower together before going to bed. Monday afternoon, Daryl had his usual lunch with Rick. They sat in their normal booth at Alexandria Cafe, Sasha greeting them with a smile and the waitresses waving to them. Tyreese came out and sat with them for a few minutes, catching up and shooting the shit. When he left, Daryl shook his hand and Rick's eyes were drawn to the ring. 

“Since when do you wear rings, Daryl?” Rick smirked, taking a sip of his coffee.

Daryl flushed and looked down at his left hand. “... Paul proposed on Saturday night.”

Rick spit out his coffee, nearly getting it on the mechanic across from him. Daryl made a face and grabbed some napkins, wiping the table down. The sheriff coughed a few times before taking a sip of water. “What..?”

“Why's that so surprising? We been tagether a year now.”

“Yeah. A year! Isn't that moving a little fast?” Rick sat back against the booth, clearing his throat a couple times.

Daryl shrugged. “You 'n Michie 'r livin tagether, ain't ya? Ain't that movin a bit fast?” Rick blushed and nodded. “Paul 'n I know what we want, Rick. I was honestly a bit surprised. Didn't think he'd propose this soon. Didn't think he was ready.”

The sheriff smiled. “I'm happy for you, Daryl. I really am. I'm glad we could be friends after... I led you on.”

Daryl shrugged, playing with the ring on his finger. “I don't hold it 'gainst ya, Rick. Like I said... I don't think we woulda been truly happy tagether, not like we are wit Paul 'n Michonne.” Rick nodded in agreement. “Still... I would've liked ta see where it woulda gone. Know we woulda broke up in the end, but-”

“The sex would've been amazing.”

They both blushed and laughed. Sasha brought their lunch over and they ate in amiable silence. Rick dropped Daryl back off at the shop and made his way back to the station. After closing up shop, Daryl stopped and got a bouquet of roses and went home. When he walked in the door, he was greet by a pit bull puppy, licking and gnawing at his shoes. Paul came running around the corner, a bit flushed and sweaty.

“Daryl! Welcome home!”

Daryl grinned a bit. “Where'd this guy come from?”

“Tara and Denise's dog had puppies a couple months ago. This little guy was the only one left. No one wanted him cause he's the runt of the litter.” Paul walked over to him, smiling at the roses. “For me?”

“Nah, Rick's tryin ta win mah heart over now that we're engaged.” At Paul's alarmed expression, he chuckled and stepped carefully over the excited puppy. “'m kiddin, Paul. 'Course they're fer you.”

Paul relaxed and took them, blushing and smiling happily. “Thank you.”

“Ya seriously worried 'bout Rick stealin me from ya?”

“.... No.”

Daryl shook his head. “You 'n Michonne... ain't nothin ever gonna happen 'tween Rick 'n I. We joke about it, but that's all it is, Paul.” He kissed the artist softly, petting his cheek. “If ya don't like it, I'll put a stop ta it.”

Paul chuckled, kissing back warmly. “No, it's okay, Daryl. Michie and I agreed its kind of hot. “ He winked. “We also agreed that if you two ever left us for each other, we would get married and live out our lives with a house full of cats and a yard full of dogs.”

The mechanic raised an eyebrow. “Thank God that's never happenin.” He bent down, scooping up the puppy. “What're we gonna name this little guy?”

“I'm not sure. I was going to leave that up to you.” Paul said as he walked to the kitchen and grabbed a vase from under the sink. 

Daryl followed after him, head tilted back as the puppy tried licking at his beard. “Too friendly ta be a guard dog.”

“He's a puppy, Daryl. Puppies are always friendly.” 

The faucet turned on while Paul filled the vase with water. He took scissors to the thorny stems carefully, cutting the roses down to fit in the vase. When he was done, he put the vase on the dinner table with a warm smile. Daryl raised an eyebrow as Paul stared at them like they were the most precious thing on the planet.

“They're roses, Paul. Ain't like I gave ya a diamond ring.” 

“It's not a ring, but I got them from you.” Paul whispered, walking up to him. “I cherish anything I get from you because you thought of me when you bought them.”

“'m always thinkin 'bout you.” Daryl whispered back. 

“And that means more to me than anything in the world.” Paul leaned forward and kissed him, chuckling as the puppy licked at both their chins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 10 might be the last chapter


	10. Ch. 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I started writing this and Hate Me by Blue October came on my Pandora... and... I started bawling... cause it made me think of Daryl drinking alone in his cabin after Paul left... so... I had to switch to happier music.

Paul looked up from his drawing when the chair across from him was pulled out. He smiled as Tara sat down, munching on a donut and getting some chocolate crumbs on her tan uniform. It'd been a month since he proposed to Daryl and he was slowly getting the wedding pieced together. Daryl didn't have many requests, leaving most everything up to Paul. They only thing he wanted was the cover band to play Def Leppard and the wedding be held outside. He didn't care where, just as long as he could feel the sun and the wind around him. 

“How's wedding plans goin?” Tara asked, sipping her coffee.

“Pretty good. It's hard getting Daryl to give his opinion, but that doesn't surprise me. He always tells me he's happy with whatever I decide.” Paul sighed, setting his pencil down.

“He is, Paul. He's just happy to be marrying you. He'd probably be good with just going to the courthouse and signing papers.”

“I don't want that for Daryl, though. I want him to have a nice, charming wedding. He deserves that much.” 

Tara smiled, cleaning the crumbs off her uniform. “He wants it outside, right? Why not at his cabin?”

“The cabin is a place of sanctuary for us. I'm not sure he'd want people there.”

“It's just going to be us, though, right? We all love Daryl, so why would it bother him?”

Paul reached up, scratching his forehead. “Neither of us have family here, so it'll be friends.” He paused in thought. Perhaps it wouldn't be terrible. The wide expanse of space behind Daryl's cabin would be perfect for a stage, dance floor and tables. Surrounded by the forest and animals, Daryl would love it. “It's possible. I might bring it up with him tonight.”

Tara nodded. “Let me know if you need help with anything.”

“Actually... I was wondering if you'd be my Best Woman.” Paul smiled as Tara's eyes widened. She squealed and launched herself across the table to hug him, kissing his cheek and shouting that 'yes!' she'd love to!

 

Daryl was setting dinner on the table when Paul walked in. Benny, their black and white pit bull puppy, greeted him with a wagging tail and whines. Paul smiled, taking his jacket, scarf and gloves off and hanging them up. He bent down to pick the pup up. 

“He's getting so big.” The artist smiled, petting his ears and chuckling at the licks to his china n cheek.

“Keep on pickin 'im up, he's gonna be spoiled.” Daryl smirked. “Yer late tanight.”

“Sorry, babe. Tara wanted to meet for coffee after her shift.” Paul set the puppy back down and kissed Daryl softly. “Thank you for dinner.”

The mechanic shrugged. “'m usually the one late, so... s'fine.”

Paul smiled, hugging his waist. “Yeah, but you made my favorite, I see.” He nipped Daryl's chin. He leaned back, smiling sweetly. “Shall we eat?”

Daryl nodded and they sat down, eating in comfortable silence. Benny laid at Daryl's feet, chewing on a raw hide bone from Daryl's last hunt. After dishes were cleaned, they cuddled on the couch to watch some TV and then took a shower. As they laid in bed, Paul went over his drawings of the wedding decorations, showing some to Daryl and asking his opinion. When Daryl continued to give him non committal grunts or single word agreements, Paul pursed his lips. Daryl returned to his own book and the artist growled.

Frustrated, Paul snapped his pad shut. “Daryl... I don't mean to keep sounding like a girl, but this is not just my wedding! I want your opinion on this! This is going to be the most important day of our lives! We're joining together in marriage, becoming one!”

Daryl sighed and sat up. “Paul, I couldn't honestly care less where we get married, what colors we choose, what flowers we use... as long as it's you who kisses me, I couldn't be any happier.” 

Paul felt both happy and offended at the same time. Only Daryl could ever make him feel like that. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to kiss the man for sounding so romantic, but punch him for not caring about their wedding day. 

“Already told ya what I want outta this, Paul... cover band playing Def Leppard, an outside weddin, 'n my last name changed.”

Paul's heart raced. He'd almost forgotten that Daryl was taking his last name. His mind raced, trying to formulate a thought so he could continue to be mad at the man. “So, if I make you wear a turquoise tux and tell you to shave all your hair off, you'd do it?”

“... Nah. Ya wouldn't make me shave all mah hair. Ya like grabbing it too much when 'm fuckin ya.” Daryl smirked, but faltered at Paul's tearful expression. “Paul-”

“You're still an asshole sometimes, Daryl.” Paul shoved the blankets off, leaving his drawing pad on the bed as he left the room. He went across the hall and into his art room, slamming the door shut. 

Daryl stared blankly at the bedroom door. What the hell just happened? 

 

Paul never returned to bed last night, sleeping on the couch instead. He left the house without telling Daryl good bye and went to his shop. Daryl texted him several times through out the day, apologizing and asking him if he was alright. No, he wasn't alright. His boyfriend didn't want any part of planning their wedding. He knew he was acting like a teenage drama queen, but he couldn't help it. He was getting married to the love of his life, his soul mate, his entire world; but, his entire world didn't seem to care. He sighed heavily, laying his head on his arms that were crossed over the counter. 

“Trouble in paradise, Boss?” 

Paul looked up at his employee, a college kid named Zach. “You could say that.” He whispered. “Can I ask you something?”

“Is it about Daryl?”

“Yes.”

The boy shrugged. “Sure. Don't know him too well, so I don't know how good advice I'll give.”

“Well, you know we're getting married, right?” The boy nodded, so Paul sat up straight. “Daryl wants nothing to do with the planning of our wedding. I've asked him his opinion several times, but he just keeps telling me whatever I think is best. We had a fight last night because of it.”

Zach seemed to process this information. When he'd first met Daryl, the man didn't seem the type to get married, or even been in a committed relationship with someone like Paul. He'd watched them together, though, and they were a very good couple. “Well... not sure what to tell you, Boss. Daryl doesn't seem the type to know the first thing about planning weddings.”

“And I do?”

“You're an artist, Paul. You know what looks good together be it colors, fabrics, decorations... anything. Daryl says you decorated the inside of your house and he's happy with it. So, maybe he's leaving the planning of your wedding up to you, because he trusts you'll know what makes him happy. You know his likes, his dislikes, his taste in colors and music. He knows you're not selfish, you'll plan for things that you both like. I have a feeling, that if someone else were planning it, he would be all up in their business; but, it's you. He trusts you.”

Paul blinked, staring at his part-timer in shock. He'd only been working for Paul for a little over a month, but he already knew just what to say to make Paul see things clearly. “Zach... do you have a girlfriend?”

“Um... no.”

The artist smiled. “Come to my Halloween party tonight at 8, I'll introduce you to someone cute. Her name is Beth.”

“O-Okay... thanks.”

 

When Paul got home, Daryl was sitting on the back porch with Benny, tossing a ball for the pup to chase. He paused by the door, staring at Daryl's back. He felt bad about last night. He hasn't called Daryl such a harsh name since he'd left several years ago. He was about to back away and go get them both a beer, but Benny saw him and whined, running up to him. He smiled and knelt down to pet the pup. Daryl turned on the stairs, hair in his eyes. 

“... Welcome home.”

Paul swallowed thickly and stood. “Thanks...” He ran a hand through his hair and stepped out, walking up to the mechanic and sitting next to him. 

They sat in silence for a while, Daryl playing fetch with the pup, so long as Benny didn't get distracted by sounds and smells. When Benny disappeared into the bushes along the back fence, Daryl snorted and shook his head. 

“Lil' shit best not be diggin holes.” When Paul winced a bit at the slur, Daryl looked at him. “Ya okay?”

“Daryl... I'm sorry about last night. I know... you hate being called names like that.”

“Nah, I deserved it. I should be helpin plannin this weddin more.”

“You don't have to, Daryl. I know why you're not. You trust me to make this a good wedding, for both of us.” The artist reached out, laying his hand over Daryl's on the porch step. He smiled when Daryl laced their fingers together. “I would appreciate your opinion more, though.” 

“I can do that.” Daryl nodded. 

“So... how about having it in early May at the cabin?”

The mechanic looked up at the orange and purple sky, squinting a bit in thought. “Yeah... I like that. Also like the idea of an arbor covered in baby breaths and lilies. 'n the center pieces fer the tables look great, too.”

Paul smiled brightly. “Really? I wasn't sure about the marbles, though.”

“Why not use them water beads, then? Michonne used 'em at 'er Independence Day party.”

The artist smiled more. “Daryl, that's a wonderful idea.” 

 

They ordered take out that night and cuddled in bed sharing soft kisses and warm words. Benny lay at the foot of the bed, fast asleep after his adventures in the backyard. Daryl kept true to his word and offered his opinion more often. He even went to the craft stores with Paul and Tara, helping to choose fabrics and accessories. As the wedding drew closer, they picked out the cakes and flowers and got fitted for their tuxedos. Paul thought about wearing black like Daryl, but the mechanic nearly begged him to wear a white tux. (If going down on Paul in the bathroom of Men's Warehouse to convince him to wear white could be considered begging.) So, after a very intense orgasm, Paul agreed to wear a white suit with a sapphire vest and tie.

The artist didn't think it would look good, but when his tuxedo was finished and he stood staring himself in the mirror, he thought he looked very good. The pants hugged his hips and ass, the vest and tie accented his eyes and the stark white of the material made the blonde highlights of his hair stand out. Standing next to Daryl, who was looking very sharp in his black and sapphire tuxedo, the artist was very happy. He walked up to the mechanic and kissed him, then turned to the mirrors. They looked at each other through the reflective surface, hearts racing. 

“Next week... are you ready?” Paul whispered, taking Daryl's hand in his. 

“... Yeah. More than ever.” Daryl whispered back. “Are you?”

Paul turned and looked up at him. “I've been ready since I laid eyes on you by the lake that Friday night.”

Daryl grinned, kissing him softly. “Have ta wonder bout yer taste in men sometimes.”

The artist chuckled. “Unfortunately, no other man will do for me anymore. Just you.”

“Good. Mah plan worked.” They giggled at each other and kissed softly. 

 

The wedding was beautiful. They managed to get a large, white tent set up behind the cabin for the dance floor and band to set up under. Tables were randomly placed around for people to sit, eat and talk. The ceremony was held a bit further behind the treeline by the river, the arbor placed between two trees and decorated with lilies and blue and white baby breaths. White chairs with sapphire chair covers were lined on either side of the blue runner. Daryl waited under the arbor with Father Gabriel. Their friends were seated in the foremost rows of chairs. When Paul started walking down the runner, Daryl's breath caught. 

The artist's hair had finally grown out to the length Daryl loved it at. He had it back in a bun with a few strands framing his face and blue baby breaths braided into the bun. When the artist stopped in front of him, Daryl reached up and pulled him into a kiss. Paul was shocked, but leaned into it, ignoring the giggling and Father Gabriel's protests. 

“We haven't gotten that far, yet! We haven't even started!” The priest was smiling, though. 

Daryl pulled back, blinking away tears. “Missed ya, beautiful...”

Paul blushed and smiled. “Missed you, too, handsome.”

“May I get started?” The father asked. 

The mechanic stepped back and cleared his throat, nodding. “Yeah.”

Father Gabriel nodded back and began speaking, but Daryl ignored him, staring into Paul's blue-green eyes. His smile was contagious, making everyone watching them smile and sniffle from tears of happiness. 

“Do you, Daryl Dixon, take Paul Rovia to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, til death do you part?”

Daryl remained silence. Glenn nudged him and the mechanic flushed, looking away from Paul's eyes. “I do.” He reached a shaky hand forward, sliding the ring he'd bought a few weeks ago onto Paul's finger. 

Paul chuckled, knowing exactly what happened. They hadn't seen each other since yesterday morning, having spent the night away from each other to uphold the tradition of the bride and groom not seeing each other before the wedding. They had talked on the phone, texted, sexted and sent each other dirty pictures. He knew Daryl had missed him terribly. He had missed the mechanic just as much.

Father Gabriel just chuckled and shook his head. “Do you, Paul Rovia, take Daryl Dixon to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, til death do you part?”

“I do!” Paul reached out, hands just as shaky, sliding the silver buck ring onto Daryl's finger, right where it belonged. He held the mechanic's hand tightly as Gabriel finished his speech. 

“If there are any persons who object to this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Paul glanced nervously at their audience, half way expecting Alex to come out from the trees and object to it. He didn't, however, and Paul smiled up at Daryl. 

“Very well. Paul, Daryl... you may now kis-”

He didn't even get to finish before the two were leaning into each other and kissing deeply, arms around each other tightly. Tara immediately began squealing with happiness, running forward and hugging onto Paul's back as they pulled away. Their friends surrounded them, hugging and offering words of happiness. Paul and Daryl held hands tightly, ducking away to make their way down the aisles, both grinning widely. 

The reception started with a blast. The cover band playing and echoing from the speakers and into the trees. The sun was bright and warm, but there was a gentle breeze carrying the smell of the forest and river. The newly married couple danced their first dance to Scorpion's Still Loving You. Everyone watched with rapt attention as the couple whispered to each other, swaying slowly and kissing lovingly. 

“Are you happy?” Paul whispered, fingers pushing Daryl's bangs out of his eyes. 

“Course I am.” The mechanic whispered back. “How could I not be? Jus got married ta mah soul mate.” The artist nodded, tearing up, he hugged Daryl's shoulders tightly, nuzzling into his neck and sobbing softly. “Paul..? What's'a matter, baby?”

“I'm just so happy. I almost lost this.” Paul's voice was shaky, a choked whimper escaped him. “I lost you to yourself... then almost lost you to Rick.”

Daryl's heart ached at the words. The artist was right. They'd lost each other to his pride and anger. If Rick hadn't decided to be with Michonne, he'd probably be with the sheriff and Paul would've moved on. He gently pulled Paul's face away from his neck and wiped his tears away. “Ya didn't... ya came home... came back ta me. Ya ain't ever gonna lose me, baby. 'm yer's fer however long ya want me. I ain't ever gonna leave ya by choice.”

Paul whimpered again, surging up and kissing Daryl deeply. “I'll always want you, Daryl. I'm never going to stop wanting you... loving you.” They kissed again, soft and warm, arms tight around each other. 

The reception lasted well into the night. Tara promised to check on Benny on her way home, taking Paul's key and a paper with their alarm code on it so she could get in. Rick hugged Daryl good bye and shook Paul's hand, congratulating them. He promised to come back tomorrow to help tear the tent down and return all the rental chairs. Daryl nodded and thanked him, shutting the door as he left. He locked the door and turned, watching Paul throw away paper cups and plates. They had a pile of presents in the corner needing to be opened, but he could care less about that at the moment. 

“Don't gotta do that right now, baby.” 

Paul looked up, smiling as Daryl approached him. They'd both shed their jackets and vests, leaving them both in just their ties and shirts. Daryl took his tie off and reached for Paul's, gently pulling on it to pull the artist closer. “And what, pray tell, do I gotta do right now?” He dropped the trash bag he'd been holding to grab onto Daryl's hips. 

“Mmn... how bout consummate yer marriage?” Daryl nipped Paul's ear, slowly backing away out of his grasp, hands reaching up to unbutton his shirt and slide it off. 

Paul grinned, licking his lips, eyes trailing along his husband's tanned skin. He reached up, taking his own tie off as he followed Daryl down the hall to the bedroom. He walked into the room, dropping his tie on the floor and watching Daryl slides his pants down, leaving him in a black thong, garter belt and fish net stockings. 

“Fuck, baby... didn't know you were into lingerie.” Paul whispered, his pants becoming two sizes too tight at the sight. 

Daryl just smirked. “Saw yer dirty drawings.”

Paul blushed. “Daryl-”

“Feels pretty good...” Daryl stretched out on the bed, arching his back and spreading his legs. He reached down, fingering the garter belt. “Why don't ya come feel fer yerself?”

The artist groaned and walked up to the bed. “You're going to be the death of me Daryl Rovia.”

The mechanic chuckled. “What a way ta go, though.” He hugged Paul's shoulders, pulling him down into a deep kiss. 

Paul grinned and pulled back. “I'll take you with me.”

“Wouldn't have ta... I'd follow ya... no matter where ya go.” Daryl whispered. “I told ya... 'm glued ta ya.”

“I wouldn't have it any other way.” Paul whispered back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There she is! The end! I'm not entirely happy with this final chapter, but I think I'm going to do some one-shots of like when they first met and their V-Day date and maybe their first date from the first time they were together. I don't want to do a one-shot of the fight that broke them up.... I don't think my fragile emotions could handle it.


End file.
